


Reign

by Sanctuaria



Series: Long Live the Orici [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Adria has some shit to figure out, Adria takes over the galaxy, Adria wins Ark of Truth, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s10e19 Dominion, F/M, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Nature Versus Nurture, Villain PoV, if you could call it that, well most of it anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 05:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 54,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15065828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctuaria/pseuds/Sanctuaria
Summary: Can SG-1 survive the wrath of a daughter scorned? The Orici relentlessly pursues intergalactic conquest while simultaneously trying to reconcile with her human need for a mother’s love.AU for Dominion through Ark of Truth and beyond, with hints of D/V and S/J. Adria’s perspective.





	1. Chapter 1

“Are you certain she’s alone?”

“Yes, Orici,” the Prior answered with a slight bow of his head. “There is no sign of the rest of SG-1 on the planet, and their ship has not been detected in orbit or anywhere in the vicinity. Vala Mal Doran is alone.”

“What are you doing there, all by yourself, Mother?” Adria murmured quietly. Her desire to convert her mother to Origin overrode her suspicion that it may be a trap. Gifted as she was by the Ori, Adria had no need to fear trickery. And even if Vala remained stubborn and set in her ways, she would at least be a source of information about the plans of the population of unbelievers on Earth. 

Of course, given enough time, Adria had no doubt she could eventually sway her mother’s opinion over to the correct side.

She flicked her gaze suddenly to the Prior, power and command radiating from her voice. “Inform the fleet that I will be making a brief stop at the nearest gated planet, and set the course immediately.” 

The Prior, with his milky bluish-white eyes, pasty face, and scarred chin again inclined his head. “Hallowed are the Ori.” She was glad that her role as Orici, the one from whom all would learn, did not require such grotesque facial features and scarification. She was quite proud of her beauty, and believed that it gave her an increased aura of dominion and mystique, crucial to both promoting a religion and overseeing an army.

“Hallowed are the Ori,” she repeated back to him before watching him walk out of the room. Thanks to the meddling of SG-1 with the Sangraal, the Ori were gone, vanquished, dead. But the Priors and the rest of her army did not need to know that. The Ori’s disappearance did nothing to diminish Adria’s plans to rule the galaxy. It was her birthright, given to her by supernatural beings as close to being gods as one could get. She was always meant to inherit their legacy.

Adria retired to her quarters to await their arrival, knowing full well this little interlude could cost them as much as a day for her to try to convince Vala to come back with her to her ship. Simply rendering her unconscious with the powers of her mind and taking her would set a negative tone on the whole conversion, and Adria wanted her mother’s approval. Vala deserved more than the miserable, lackluster life she received on Earth, and Adria wanted to give her her rightful, exalted place here as Mother of the Orici. 

She had just arrived back from their home galaxy through the Supergate with six new warships. When she had entered the Hall of Fire in Celestis, Adria realized the Sangraal had indeed worked, as the flames of the ascended Ori were extinguished. The Doci had approached her asking the meaning of this soon after, and she had assured him that the Ori were as powerful as ever, even if the Flames of Enlightenment had disappeared. She told him that the fires were out because the Ori were dissatisfied with their progress in converting the Milky Way Galaxy. He immediately promised her six new warships within the week, and she told him that even more would need to be done to regain the Ori’s favor. She then locked herself away in seclusion to assess her current situation.

At first she grieved for her lost benefactors. Besides Vala, they were the closest thing she had to family, and she trusted their guidance though they never deigned to speak with her personally. She had almost all of their knowledge to guide her, and she knew they were watching. It was then that she realized that they had left her more than a vestige of memories, but a mantle to take up and wear as her own. After she converted all of the Milky Way, she would be free to ascend herself and wield all the power they had held, consolidated for use by one single being and not spread out as it was among them. With it, she could finally destroy the Alterans, and her rule would be absolute. The Ori had not left her alone, but rather given her all the tools she required to achieve her aspirations and more.

Still, there was no one left she could  _ really _ speak to on the Ori warships. Not the Priors, it would be unfitting. Not Tomin, who was well below her rank in the hierarchy and not even her real father. But if she could convert Vala…to be able to converse with her own flesh and blood would be a blessing fit for Origin. The Priors had admonished her during the brief time she spent as a child that she should not grow attached to her mother, but they did not understand the innate bond that went between them. Adria could not destroy it if she tried. 

There was a knock on her door. “Approach,” Adria called out, and one of her warriors, a commander, swung the door inward and stepped inside. 

He immediately bowed his head in reverence. “Orici, we have entered the orbit of the planet and your transport is ready for you.”

“Good. Inform Prior Vesuvius that I shall be in communication with him shortly.” She swept past him without another word, heading down the corridor to the nearest ring platform. Heads bowed as she past, and a few even fell to their knees in front of her. She gave them no notice; she owed them no attention. With a flick of her thoughts, Adria activated the ring transporter as soon as her left foot made contact with the stone pedestal. The ship—her ship—disappeared in a flash of light.

As she stepped off the platform onto the soft grass of the alien world, she noted that, as usual, the Prior had picked an apt spot to drop the rings. The area was slightly secluded by the abundance of greenery, but she could see the beginnings of a village just a few hundred feet away, as well as the Stargate the same distance in the other direction. Normally Adria preferred to come in with more of a… _ bang _ …but she was not here on a mission to assimilate these townspeople into the ranks of believers. No, she was here for one reason only. To reunite with her mother.

She did not even need to slow as she approached the Stargate, interfacing her mind with the dialing device as she walked. Her stride was forceful, confident, and she liked to think she filled the villagers, who had noticed her arrival and were now watching her exit, with equal amounts of awe and fear. She did.

Once safely on the other side of the wormhole, it took only a moment to locate Vala with her mind, and she strode purposefully toward the decrepit-looking building in which Vala currently resided, ignoring the looks the villagers gave her for her manner and dress. Likely they had never seen such finery as her collared black cloak, her self-protection amulet, or her low cut dress. She cast the door to the pub open in a resounding crash without touching it, and all eyes fell to her, though their guns remained pointed at her mother. It looked like she had come just in time. 

Effortlessly, she stripped the men of their weapons and propelled them to the sides of the room with her thoughts, leaving a clear path between her and Vala. She wore what she supposed was a friendly, non-threatening smile as she gazed at her mother, who greeted her with a simple, “Adria.” The Orici could sense her surprise.

“Hello, Mother,” Adria answered, still sporting that self-satisfied smile. “It’s good to see you. It’s been far too long.” She omitted the glaring part about that being SG-1’s fault, as the last time she had seen them, Prior Daniel knocked her unconscious and sent her and the Sangraal through the Supergate. It wouldn’t do for Vala to sense the grudge Adria still held over that. It was retribution to be harvested another day.

“I did not expect to see you again,” Vala said, mildly shocked. And perhaps…was that disappointment? Her mother’s emotions were hard to read at this moment in time, even with Adria’s formidable gifts.

“I had to return, Mother. My work here is unfinished,” Adria responded lightly as Vala sat back down in her chair.

“Who is this?” one of the large men interrupted. It took all of Adria’s self control not to raise him into the air and choke him right then and there. 

“You really  _ don’t _ wanna know,” Vala answered him dramatically. Adria tried to keep from tutting. It was hard enough converting an entire galaxy without the Mother of the Orici spreading suspicion about her before she’d even made first contact. Then again, the word of a proven cheater and thief wouldn’t count much to these men anyway. No, this was more about Adria’s personal feelings. In her opinion, she was a perfectly pleasant companion. As long as you were in her good graces, that was. 

The stupid men rushed at her, and instead they smashed into the outer walls of the establishment. As much as she enjoyed bloodshed, Vala did not, and Adria knew that. “Get out. All of you!” Adria commanded, and they hurried out onto the streets in a stampede. She liked that she could instill so much fear. Sometimes it was even better than killing them. 

“I don’t suppose you’re gonna let me just walk out of here,” Vala said, glancing around at the now empty pub.

“I’m afraid not. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Mother, but your attempt to destroy the Ori was unsuccessful,” Adria lied, laying down the first piece of her bait. As part of SG-1, this kind of information would pique Vala’s curiosity and hopefully keep her there to see what other tidbits of information the Orici would drop.

“Am I supposed to take your word for that?” Vala questioned. She started piling the chips from the table into her pockets, and Adria felt the need to become the focus of her mother’s attention once more.

“I’ve been personally supervising the construction of dozens of ships. Now that our intergalactic gate is operational again, there’s nothing to stop them from coming here. We should have the entire galaxy converted in a matter of months.” She could not help the hint of pride that colored her voice at that statement. Even if her mother did not agree with her crusade, she must admit that that was impressive. She must. 

“Just because you’ve been building ships doesn’t prove anything,” Vala said. Apparently not. Time to change the subject, as it was all too obvious that it would take much more time than she had here to convince her mother of anything. 

“What are you doing here?” Adria asked. “Where are your friends from Earth?” She had it from the Prior that they were not around—if they were, they would no doubt have come to Vala’s “rescue” by now—but it still begged the question  _ why _ . 

“Friends come and go,” Vala answered cryptically, but Adria could not have missed the note of sadness in her mother’s voice if she tried. 

She immediately took a seat on the edge of the table, leaning in closer and adopting a concerned tone. “Have they abandoned you?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Vala murmured, a catch in her throat distorting the words slightly. She reached again for the chips on the table, but Adria was tired of being ignored. She shoved her back into the chair without lifting a finger. 

“I really must know, Mother,” Adria said, eyes steely. 

“You do realize, in a traditional mother-daughter relationship,  _ I’m _ supposed to be the bossy one?” Vala replied in an annoyed tone before relenting. “Oh, whatever. It makes no difference now anyway.” The hurt was even more evident in Vala Mal Doran’s voice now than before. “I had a dream that showed me how to find infinite treasure through the Clava Thessara Infinitas, which Daniel actually believed to be a storehouse of Ancient weapons technology. You see, it was this circular stone tablet with gate symbols written all over it. But in my dream, I realized that the Earth infinity symbol could be placed across the tablet to produce one working gate address. I told them about it, but Muscles seemed to think it could be trap, that you had sent me that dream to lure us somewhere. Colonel Carter pointed out that it was possible that the dream came from a latent memory left by Qetesh, the Goa’uld that once controlled me. I convinced them that this must be the case, and they sent a team to that address.” 

“I didn’t send you that information!” Adria pressured, urging her to continue. The location of Alteran technology—especially weapons—definitely interested her, and, despite what anyone thought, she genuinely did care for her mother’s feelings in all this. 

“That’s what I tried to tell them, but they didn’t believe me, especially when the reconnaissance team returned,” Vala answered defeatedly. “They reported it as an ambush; your warriors were onto them as soon as they stepped through the gate. Two of their men were killed, and a few more injured. But I was so certain that I was right, I couldn’t leave well enough alone. And the very next night, I had the same dream except the symbol was vertical this time. I told them about it in the morning, but they refused to listen. They were adamant that you were using me, and their leaders locked me up.” 

Adria frowned slightly. It was an… _ odd _ …story, to say the least. But she sensed no deception in her mother’s mind. 

Vala noticed her scrutiny. “You don’t believe me, either.”

“You can’t lie to me, Mother,” Adria admonished. “I can read the truth in your mind. I’m just surprised.”

“So was I,” Vala muttered. 

“How did you convince them to let you go?” From what she knew of the people of Earth, they were not stupid. And this was a blatant error in tactics, one from which the Orici was more than happy to benefit. 

“I didn’t. That’s the funny thing,” Vala explained. “I guess they thought a locked door could hold me. Or they never imagined I’d make it off the base. Once free from my cell, I stole the Sodan cloaking device, and the rest was a walk in the park. I was invisible, so I just followed another team through the gate and used the DHD on the other side to come here.” 

Adria leaned in a little closer, honestly concerned with her mother’s well-being. “What do you plan to do now?”

“Well, I had just won myself a cargo ship when you dropped by and broke up the game, so…” Vala muttered angrily. 

“Is that really what you want?” Adria pressed softly. “A life alone, always on the run? That life no longer suits you, Mother—you belong with me. Return with me to my ship and take up your rightful place as Mother of the Orici!” Vala stood from her chair, and for a moment Adria thought her impassioned plea had done the trick. She could not have been more wrong. 

“Adria, stop it!” Vala exclaimed. Adria did not cover the look of surprise and hurt fast enough. “I am not your mother. I may have given birth to you, but we are not family. So, stop pretending.”

It was a strain for her to keep smiling. She stood as well, taking a half step forward to approach her mother, perhaps place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You just need time to think about it. We’ll talk further, on our way.” She utilized her most persuasive voice, and she could feel the indecision in her mother’s mind. 

“Where are we going?” Vala asked warily, but with a certain intonation of defeat.

“To find the Clava Thessara Infinitas.” Her mother needed someone to believe in her right then, and Adria needed to find that store of weapons. It was a win for both of them, and maybe an opportunity for further bonding, one that would take place away from her duties as the Orici for a few hours. 

“You think it’s real?”

“I think that Colonel Carter was right,” Adria answered truthfully. The subliminal message had not come from her, and with the Alterans’ policy of non-interference it was the only explanation. “This might be knowledge from your time as a Goa’uld being dredged up through your subconscious.”

“Well, you’re too late,” Vala sighed. “Despite the fact that they didn’t trust me, they thought that they should check out the second gate address, anyway, just to be safe. I overheard them planning the mission as I was leaving.”

“Yes, but there’s something you’re not telling me,” Adria said shrewdly. There had been a flicker of something not wholly veracious about her statement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The falsehood seeped off her like a stench. 

Adria’s demeanor changed in an instant. “Don’t play games with me, Mother!” she demanded sternly. “If I have to force this information out of you, it will be quite unpleasant.” She was not afraid to make threats, even to her own mother. Nor was she afraid to follow through.

“They were worried about an ambush, so they’re taking a ship,” Vala admitted. This rang with truth. Finally. 

“We can beat them if we travel by Stargate. Let’s go. Now!” Adria commanded, and strode out of the pub. For a moment she wondered if Vala would follow her—and what she would be forced to do if she didn’t—but the woman appeared shortly thereafter. Her sleeves looked especially stuffed. Adria resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her mother’s antics. They had work to do. 

“What was the address?” Adria asked as Vala joined her in front of the dialing device just outside the village. Her mother took a step closer and Adria moved out of the way, watching carefully while allowing Vala to scrutinize the device. It wouldn’t do to be sent to the wrong planet because she had asked for a hasty answer. 

While she waited for Vala to identify the correct symbols, Adria sent a quick psychic message to the Prior aboard her ship, informing him that he should continue to wait there, at his current location, for her. Vala pressed in the seven symbols and together mother and daughter approached the watery center of the Stargate, stopping directly in front of it. Adria looked at Vala. 

“What?” her mother demanded. 

“You’re sure this is the correct address?” Adria asked. 

“Well, no, of course not!” Vala answered. “It was the most awful dream, a nightmare really, and for the second night in a row! I wasn’t going to stay in it for longer than I had to! You see, there was this television show I was in where you had to dance with these so-called celebrities and there were judges, and—” Adria grabbed her mother’s forearm and stepped them both through the gate.

The universe spun around her in a vortex that was both endless and only lasted for an instant. Adria briefly wondered as the forested planet appeared in front of her if that was how everyone experienced a trip through the Stargate—or whether that was yet another effect of being the Orici. With a vast percentage of the knowledge of those that came before her, she understood the workings of the Stargate implicitly, more than any mortal ever could. 

Her feet suddenly felt the weight of her body on the stone steps from the gate, and the wormhole dissipated behind them. She scarcely registered her surroundings before the men in uniforms pointing Earth guns at them caught her attention, and she smiled slightly. They thought to stop her with tiny pellets of metal? Hand still on her mother’s arm, they descended the steps together towards the lead man. Cameron Mitchell.

“Howdy!” he greeted them, and next to him stood the rest of SG-1, their mouths set in grim, determined lines. Adria felt an immediate surge of dislike, some of which she knew stemmed from their treatment of her mother. Then again, perhaps she owed them a certain debt of gratitude…thanks to their actions, Vala and the Orici had been reunited, as it was always meant to be. 

Adria kept walking with that same self-assured smile, only pausing at the edge of the dais to lift one hand. To put them all out of their misery and rid the galaxy of some more nettlesome unbelievers.

Except nothing happened. There was no swirl of power that only she could see in the air around her, no fire in her veins. The men remained standing, and only then did Adria realize her mistake. 

“You didn’t really think we’d invite you to a party and not disable your funky powers, did ya?” Mitchell asked cockily. As much as she would have liked to smite him down where he stood, Adria ignored him, turning with a hint of anger to Vala. 

“I have no idea what’s going on,” her mother told her. She couldn’t determine the veracity of Vala’s statement without her powers, but the concern in her mother’s eyes seemed evident. 

“Don’t worry, Vala, it’s all part of the plan,” former-Prior Daniel Jackson stated. It occurred to Adria that he was most responsible for the death of the Ori, and she vowed to extinguish his life someday, much as he had extinguished theirs. Except with much, much more pain. And perhaps an audience.

“Don’t  _ you _ ever speak to me, ever again!” Vala burst out, and Adria was once again assured her mother had no part in this. How dare the humans meddle. They would pay. All of them. She would show them what happens to those who stood against Origin.

Blinding light filled the clearing, and more humans beamed in. No, not humans—Jaffa, holding staff weapons. They outnumbered the humans three to one, and then no one was pointing a gun at her, but rather at each other. “Lower your weapons!” one of the Jaffa in thick metal armor commanded. 

“Buddy, I think you got the wrong planet,” Mitchell told him, adjusting his grip on his P-90. 

The Jaffa was unamused. “Lower your weapons, or we will all perish. My master, Lord Ba’al, has targeted this location from orbit.” Adria glanced at the sky. No ship was visible, but the Jaffa had to have come from somewhere. Apparently Mitchell came to the same conclusion as he lowered his gun and signaled for his men to do the same. Before Adria could make her move—her options were severely limited with the frailty of her mother’s human body to be accounted for—one of the Jaffa approached her and attached a black band to her arm. 

“What are you doing?” Mitchell asked. 

“Carrying out my orders.” There was a strange sensation of shooting upward, and suddenly she wasn’t on the planet anymore. Most disturbing of all, Vala was no longer by her side. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria deals with being caged.

Immediately she reached into herself, seeking the flow of power that permeated every fiber of her being. It was useless. "Welcome!" boomed a man with proud features and a cruel, hooked nose. "Don't waste your time. I've learned a thing or two from our Tau'ri friends. This room is being flooded with the same kind of E.M. field they generate with that clever little device of theirs, the one that prevents you from using your mind powers." The Jaffa that had captured her pulled the repulsive band off her arm and shoved her forward, towards a metal-barred cell in the center of the room. Adria stopped at the door to it, turning to face the man she assumed must be Lord Ba'al.

"You should know that won't hold me forever," she warned him. Her eyes flashed dangerously, her manner radiating pride and control and power, an aura she'd used many times in the past in subduing her soon-to-be followers to great effect.

Ba'al chuckled. "Of course not." Then there was a push at her back again, and she stumbled into the cage. Ba'al leisurely locked it under her heated, furious gaze. "But that won't be a problem…after I'm done with you." He grinned evilly at her before appraising her up and down. "Remove your pendant and cloak. Hand them to me."

"Never."

"The fragment of your precious Celestis cannot help you now, O powerful _Orici_." He mocked her holy title, and Adria's hidden wrath grew. But she kept it beneath her skin, simmering, waiting for the right moment for it to unleash. This Ba'al would be the first to feel the flames of her unbridled fury, and then afterwards she could make examples of SG-1 to the worlds that had yet to convert.

"It won't work for you," Adria told him. "You won't be able to divine any power from it."

"I'll have all the power I need very soon," Ba'al promised cryptically. "Now, leader to leader…you can take them off yourself, or my First Prime Balthasaar shall rid you of them."

Adria scoffed. "Balthasaar. Could you be any more arrogant, Ba'al?"

Her captor's eyes narrowed. "Do not presume to mock my Jaffa. You speak to _me_ of arrogance, Orici of the Ori who promotes the religion Origin? I think not." He slowly held out one hand, and Adria reached to the nape of her neck to unclasp her necklace. She brought the pendant up to her lips before unhooking her black cloak as well. She handed them both to Ba'al's outstretched hand, gaze level.

"Hallowed are the Ori," she said as his fingers closed around them. The pendant was warm with the heat of her body, and she wished it was enough to scald the unclean hand which dared to brush against hers.

"If you wish to maintain that charade, that is fine," Ba'al responded coldly. "But I do know much about the practices of false gods." He turned to look at his First Prime. "Set guards around her and at the entrances to this chamber. They are not to speak to the prisoner or allow anyone inside this room until I return. Is that understood?"

"Yes, milord." Balthasaar bowed. "Jaffa, kree!" The other men in thick armor stood at attention. He directed two of them to stand on either side of Adria's prison and the rest to guard the doors.

"I have some business to attend to," Ba'al addressed her, "and a special guest to prepare to meet you. I will return. Please make yourself comfortable in your _cell_." He let the word roll off his tongue in such a way that the sound was long and drawn out. Ba'al took one more satisfied look at his handiwork before striding out of the room, large doors at the back sliding open to admit him.

Now that her tormentor was gone Adria angrily struck out with her palm against the metal bars, but nothing besides an unfamiliar stinging sensation in her hand came of it. She was the Orici, protected and beloved of her followers—she was unused to such crude experiences of pain and entrapment. She liked to think herself above them—just as she strived to be above fear, and doubt, and all other mortal, weakening emotions. Her army would come for her. The Priors would mount a search for ten thousand years if that's what it took to recover the Orici. In the meantime...it would not do to scrabble at her cage like a human or some kind of sewer rat; it was unbecoming. No, she would focus her energies on overcoming this anti-Prior device. Then Ba'al and his ship would burn.

Adria surveyed the room. Discounting the fire set in small holders along the walls, it was nothing like an Ori warship, although she admitted it had a certain, different, kind of opulence to that in which she was used to living. Nothing here was white with the purity of Origin, but gold instead seemed to be the standard, lending it a rich air. Strange glyphs covered some of the walls, engraved with the precision of many hands, and when she concentrated, Adria could read it. It was nothing more than a history of the 'god' Ba'al, and she turned away in disgust. _Truly_ a false god.

Reaching out with her mind again, she felt for the power that flowed within her, but it remained elusive. She resisted uttering a cry of frustration and instead turned to stalk the perimeter of her small cage. Her missing pendant made her feel vulnerable, and Adria did not like feeling vulnerable. And it was not just the absence of the personal shield that caused the unpleasant emotion, but the lack of her cloak as well. Both the piece of Celestis she carried and the regal cloak that draped around her shoulders had been a promise of something greater—of ruling, of the conversion and submission of the galaxy to her will.

Ba'al returned with more Jaffa. "Comfy?" he taunted her. "Our guest will be right along."

Adria stepped up to the bars with her eyes flashing, voice full of command and imperiousness. "You made a terrible mistake. Release me now, and I will be merciful."

"You're so much more pleasant when you lack the ability to snap my neck with your thoughts."

"You're a fool, dealing with powers way beyond your means!" Adria spat. "When my army catches up to you—"

"Don't waste your breath!" Ba'al sneered. "Your army has no idea where you are, and it'll be days before they even begin to question your disappearance. Even then, all their queries will lead them to the Tau'ri." His voice had adopted a smugness that made her want to catch him in a choke hold and snuff it out so that he might never speak again.

"If you intend to kill me, you should know the Ori will not halt their attacks on this galaxy."

"I have no intention of killing you. As a matter of fact, my whole plan hinges on your being very much alive," Ba'al told her. His eyes glinted with the knowledge that in this room, at this moment, he was sovereign. She desired to change that fact. Without blinking, she sought again her elusive powers, but they still had not yet returned. She had to bide her time.

"So you can ransom me for your freedom." She stepped forward again, as close to him as she could be through the metal bars.

"Far from it. You can offer me something far more valuable. Control…of your army."

Adria laughed lightly, smiling at his absurd notion. "They'll never listen to you."

"No. But they do listen to you," Ba'al replied.

"There's nothing you can do to make me bend my army to your will."

The System Lord leaned in, his face uncomfortably close to hers. His eyes glowed bright yellow and his voice changed. "Well, I wouldn't be so sure about that." She recoiled, shocked at his suggestion. He wouldn't dare…

The Book of Origin promised enlightenment, Adria remembered, thoughts scrambling. The Book of Origin taught faith in the goodness of the Ori, of the righteousness of their goals. Her goals. _Those who reach enlightenment will rejoice with the Ori forever…_ The doors flew open again, and more Jaffa marched in, one carrying a large tank between them.

"Ah, at last, the guest of honor," Ba'al said.

_The power and the greatness of the Ori cannot be denied…_

One of the Jaffa lifted the lid from the tank, and the sound of splashing water filled the room. Adria backed away slightly, her heart and thoughts racing, fragments of the holy book swirling around her brain. She could not see how they would help her now.

_Enemies of the Ori will show no mercy in their attempt to lead us astray from the true path, likewise we must attack with all the Strength we have been given..._

Ba'al rolled up his left sleeve and thrust his hand down into the tank. It emerged holding a struggling Goa'uld symbiote.

_Make yourself one with the path, and the journey will lead you to eternity._

The vile creature shrieked and thrashed in Ba'al's grip. "You two are about to become _very_ well acquainted."

_Fear not the Ori, fear the darkness that would conceal the knowledge of the universe._ Yes, if she had not known true fear before, she knew it now, in this moment, when it consumed her. Her breathing convulsed her chest; her human heart ran wild.

Ba'al approached her with it, and she backed away from him, stumbling towards the back of her cage. All of a sudden rough, calloused hands were on her from behind, grasping her upper arms and pinning them against the hard metal of the cage. Ba'al smiled knowingly, approaching from around the cage as if that had been the plan all along. She struggled against the iron grip of the Jaffa to no avail, and Ba'al moved to stand behind her, where she could not see him.

_Glorious are the Ori, who lead us to salvation, who did fight the evil that would doom us all to mortal sin..._

Her ebony hair was brushed aside, and a soft fingertip stroked the bare skin of the back of her neck possessively.

_...did they defeat the old spirits and cast them out? And now, with the strength of our will..._

Fiery pain the likes of which she had never experienced exploded at the base of her neck, and her vision flickered and died.

Cold, hard stone bit into her fingertips. An expanse of mahogany land opened up before her, which she quickly identified as the floor. How did she end up there? She did not remember falling. Adria struggled into a half-sitting position and lifted a hand to her neck. Almost immediately a wave of head-splitting pain engulfed her, and her body froze. She could not control her arm; it was as if something else, some _one_ else had immobilized her. She fought viciously to move it, grappling for control with this _presence_ that had invaded her. Her arm moved jerkily, but Adria could feel a creeping paralysis coming over other parts of her body now, her own thoughts and feelings being shoved out and thrown into the dark recesses of her consciousness. _Life and death, light and darkness, hope and despair. The rift was created, and in that day, the Ori were born..._

"Don't worry, this will all be over soon," Ba'al promised from above her. With great effort she turned her amber eyes up toward him, full of hatred and fury. He looked towards the entrances at the sounds of weapons fire. Tau'ri weapons.

_...But the hatred of those who strayed from the true path festered and bloomed in the dark corners of the Avernakis to which they have been cast..._

"Jaffa!" Ba'al commanded. Before his First Prime Balthasaar or any of the others could do anything, the door burst open. Mitchell came in, weapon firing. The two Jaffa who had held her for the implantation fell to the floor amid a spray of bullets.

_...And consumed by this hatred, they turned to poison all that they touched..._ Consumed. She was being consumed, her body usurped. This symbiote was a force the likes of which she had never experienced, a poison within her very thoughts.

Ba'al, pierced and bloodied, fell to the floor next to her cage, and polar emotions wrestled with each other: deep satisfaction and a brittle anger that did not stem from her. Her mother appeared next, lifting a small Goa'uld weapon and firing it at Adria. Electricity arced through their body—her body—and the Orici's last sensation was that of her own head smacking against the cold floor.

_...bringing death, darkness, and despair..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria is reunited with SG-1.

When Adria awoke, she wakened as a ghost. Her body was a shell, a shell in which she was ensconced but could no longer control. A newfound malevolence pulsed through her skin, and as much as she tried to cast it out, attacked it with her mind, railed against it, the presence would not budge. As her eyes moved, they shared the new visions it brought. As her wrists strained against the restraints, they shared the scuffing of her skin against the cuffs. They shared the experience of Mitchell's voice pervading their ear.

But they did not share control.

"Sorry," Mitchell said, not sincere at all. Vala stood next to him, and Samantha Carter and Daniel Jackson entered through the door. The gray, spartan surroundings as well as SG-1's presence betrayed this as an Earth ship.

"It's not very comfortable, believe me, I know from experience," Daniel told her, "but we're not taking any chances."

"It's over, Adria," her mother informed her, and Adria wanted to scream that this was not so. Her mouth moved of its own accord and she felt her lips twist into a feral smirk. Light flooded her pupils as her eyes glowed, and the voice that emanated from her was a twisted version of her own.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. Adria is no longer available." Daniel exchanged a glance with Vala and Carter just stared at Adria in surprise and then grudging realization.

"Well, that's a kink," Mitchell announced, looking around at the rest of SG-1.

"Hello, Ba'al," Daniel said experimentally, squinting at Adria.

"Daniel Jackson," her lips curved into that thin smile again. Her head turned and her gaze shifted to each of the team members individually. "Now that we all understand each other, I don't suppose you'll return me to my ship?"

"Adria," Vala said. Their eyes met. "Release her, Ba'al. I won't allow you to hold her prisoner as Qetesh once held me."

Daniel touched her shoulder. "Come on, Vala, let's go," he murmured. "We'll figure something out." Her mother allowed herself to be led out of the room, followed by Mitchell and Carter. The door shut with a click behind them.

Now that they were alone, Adria felt Ba'al's discarnate attention shift onto her. She stayed perfectly still within her own body, making no attempt to move any part of her lest what little autonomy she had left be stripped from her before she could devise a plan to regain it all back. She especially dared not stretch her astral muscles, for as far as she could surmise, the Ba'al symbiote had not discovered how to access those yet, how to reach into that flow of power. She trusted that the Tau'ri—the people of Earth, already there seemed to be blending in her consciousness that she had not been aware of until now—that the people of Earth would not make such a grievous tactical error as to forget to power on their anti-Prior device. They were fully human, but she knew from the time she had spent with Daniel and Vala that they were not stupid.

Seconds passed, then minutes, until a cruel contempt emanated from Ba'al and he turned his attention outward again. Their cell was small, consisting of little more than the metal chair they were strapped to, and absolutely devoid of objects Adria could manipulate with her mind should she overcome the device. The people of Earth seemed to hold no esteem for the opulence that she and Ba'al—though she shuddered to think they agreed on anything—prized. It was an odd culture, theirs, one seemingly without ambition. When she broke free of here and of Ba'al, she would return for her mother, and show her the gifts of true power. She would show her what could be, and Vala would discover the true allure of ruling and commanding, though such acts were ignorantly scorned on the Tau'ri homeworld.

Adria would claim her birthright, and her mother would claim her proper place: Mother of the Orici, exalted.

SG-1 had left them with no means of telling how much time had passed, and Adria reflected that it probably did not have much meaning anymore. Her Priors would already have started the search, but Adria would be able to break free from the restraints of the anti-Prior device long before they found her. When SG-1 returned, it was only two of them: the soldier and the turncoat Jaffa.

"So, have you decided what you intend to do with me?" Ba'al asked, again using her as a mouthpiece.

"Well, we're still weighing our options," Mitchell nodded. "Teal'c here had a good idea."

She smiled. "I can imagine."

"No…you cannot," Teal'c stated calmly, and for once Adria felt Ba'al falter. She pressed her advantage immediately, struggling with all her might against the malign force that had occupied her. For a moment she thought she had regained control—her arm shifted a fraction of an inch—but then she was shut down again, pushed aside as Ba'al reasserted himself. Adria felt her own face grimace before taking on Ba'al's knowing smile once more.

"I must caution you against doing anything too rash," he continued. "In fact, your best course of action would be to release me."

"I think we have a difference of opinion there," Mitchell replied.

"My whole plan was to order the Ori Army back out of this galaxy. You let me carry it out, we'll be rid of them forever," Ba'al enticed. Adria executed a sharp mental jab toward him, but without a foothold it affected him no more than a fly buzzing in their ear.

"That is our plan as well…only without your participation," Teal'c informed him, hands clasped behind his back.

"What do you mean?"

"He means we're gonna bring in someone a little more reliable," Mitchell supplied. "See, right now you're like a Pinto engine in a '71 Mustang. We're gonna swap you out for a big block Tok'ra." The words flowing from his mouth meant nothing to Adria, but she did recognize Tok'ra. So did Ba'al.

"It takes a great deal of effort to suppress a consciousness this powerful," Ba'al insisted. "The Tok'ra don't have the strength. Not to mention the fact that I'll kill Adria the moment you try to remove me." May he burn in the fires of damnation, Adria thought savagely while her body laughed.

"Well, that's great. We can live with that."

"Perhaps. But remember, I'm sharing Adria's mind. You would lose all access to the knowledge I possess."

"For example?"

There was another attack on her consciousness, with Ba'al wresting from her the information he sought. In her body, he was more powerful than anything she could have imagined, but she would defeat him. Eventually. "For one thing, I can confirm the Ori are dead. And that's just the beginning. With my knowledge and your... _pluckiness_ , we can accomplish a great deal. Remember how we worked together to locate the Sangraal?"

"As I recall, your efforts were not particularly helpful," Teal'c said.

"Of course, it's your decision. But it seems you only have two options. Work with me to our mutual benefit, or kill us both and miss out on _everything_ I have to offer."

The soldier and the Jaffa considered, speaking silently to one another through their eyes. _Fools!_ Adria cursed. She could sense Ba'al's malice of intent as clearly as she could feel the hard seat underneath her. Like it or not, the best plan she had for ridding herself of the Ba'al symbiote was to have SG-1 replace him. Perhaps this... _Tok'ra_ would be an easier foe to overcome, as Ba'al claimed.

"We'll think about it," Mitchell said, before turning to leave again.

They were gone longer that time, but when they returned Daniel was with them. Vala was mysteriously absent, something Adria noted with dissatisfaction. Out of all of them, Vala was the most likely to be sympathetic to her plight—the one, should Adria be able to take a brief moment of control away from Ba'al, that would be easiest to manipulate into getting her release.

"Time to go," Mitchell announced.

"What about our arrangement?" Ba'al asked.

"Oh, you mean the part where you string us along until you overcome the effects of the anti-Prior device? We'll pass," Daniel told him. He pulled a zat'nik'tel from behind his back and leveled it at them before firing.

* * *

Ba'al was asleep. Of that much Adria was sure. Why she was not, that was more of an enigma. She seemed to slip in and out of consciousness and sensation, forever surrounded by inky blackness. The absence of Ba'al's will did her no good, as her body was still immobile to her—to both of them.

She was sure that the people of Earth had not yet performed the procedure to remove Ba'al's symbiote. Adria could still feel him residing within her, a black, stagnant storm cloud lingering at the edge of her perception. Either it was her imagination, or she was starting to sense minds again—her mother's, Colonel Carter's, another man and symbiote she did not recognize. She could glean nothing from them but vague emotions—determination with a touch of concern from Vala, tension from Carter, and an overall wariness from the man, soon replaced with extreme concentration. Adria valued Vala's concern above all else, though she herself felt no fear. Not anymore.

Her body was shunted around some, and then finally laid to rest on her side, with her face pressed into something soft. Then there was a seeping cold into one of her veins, and what little she had of the world slipped away even more. It was only flashes after that—flashes of pain at the base of her neck, of alarm from those surrounding her.

A deep-seated sorrow emanating from Vala finally woke her up. The medical bay came into focus with frightening speed, and all at once Adria was aware that Ba'al no longer plagued her mind. She delved with full force into her power, felt it rushing like a river around her. The man holding the injection needle flew across the room and into the opposite wall. Her pent-up anger mounted as a flood and the puny restraints binding her wrists to the bed snapped off as she sat up, cold and powerful and terrible once more. The guards made a movement and with a flick of her thoughts they met the same fate as the man with the syringe. Daniel was next: she twisted his body up in the air before throwing him into the corridor like a rag doll. She commanded the doors to close.

The only one she did not touch was her mother. Vala stood, shell-shocked, at the end of her bed. "Adria!"

"You and your friends were trying to kill me, Mother," she exclaimed, losing her calm for once and lunging to free her ankles and pull the insidious needles and tubes from where they were inserted. "I can't let that happen." Then she felt her own fatigue, a feeling that deadened her arms to lead weights and let the Orici know that something was terribly, terribly wrong. It took only a second to realize the truth: it didn't matter that SG-1 had been trying to kill her, she was already dying. The thought gave her pause as she leaned back against the pillow. From the Ori knowledge in her head, she knew that her organs were currently shutting down one by one, but the knowledge of _how_ this was happening was decidedly less important to her than the knowledge that it _was_.

Adria narrowed her eyes as she contemplated her options. She could try to take control of the ship, but in her weakened state she found the prospect distasteful. She could send a distress beacon to the Priors aboard the nearest Ori warship, but her power would have to be stretched across light years and the feat would leave little energy for anything else, such as protecting herself until they arrived. There was also no guarantee that their combined powers could heal her body when the Orici herself could not.

Then all that was left was Ascension. It was ahead of schedule in her plans, to be sure, but Adria was left with no other option. She let out a small sigh as she tried to regain her strength, mentally preparing herself for the quest ahead. She had the knowledge and memories of thousands who had ascended before her to build on; she had little concern for whether she could achieve that state of existence. The question was more whether she could achieve it in the short time allotted.

"You can quit acting; you're obviously not sick," Vala told her sternly. Her mother drew her attention, and then Adria was in her mind, discerning her thoughts and jumbled feelings. Distress. Anger. Guilt. Horror. And the smallest, tiniest amount of pride. All of these the Orici had expected, but a memory drifted from Vala's mind into hers, a memory that caused her to recoil and her brows to furrow.

_"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Vala asked._

_"Because she's your daughter," Daniel replied. "And no matter what she's done, it must be difficult to see her treated this way."_

_"Let's get something clear. She's not my daughter, Daniel. The Ori impregnated me against my will and forced me to bring her into the galaxy. I was an incubator. A shipping crate. And...and nothing more."_

Adria's eyes widened, indignation and hurt spreading through her. A moment later she hardened her resolve again, letting Vala's words only add to the brittle core of anger that burned within her.

"No, this body really is dying," Adria replied honestly, as if she had seen nothing at all of Vala's thoughts. "I just want to use what little time I have left as wisely as possible."

"By doing what? Destroying me and my friends?"

Adria shook her head, a small smile gracing her features. "Don't be silly, Mother. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it a long time ago. No, I need time to prepare."

"Prepare for what?"

"Ascension." Adria smiled again in that self-assured way, luxuriating in having her mind all to herself once again. She was momentarily distracted by a pounding on the door and Daniel's muffled yell.

"Vala!"

"Don't," the Orici warned Vala as her mother turned towards the door.

"Vala, can you hear me?" Daniel pleaded.

"Adria…you don't have to do this," her mother petitioned.

"Granted, this wasn't part of my plan, but I can still accomplish a great deal. Perhaps even more," Adria replied lightly.

"More what? More deaths? More enslavement?"

"Don't attempt to play on my compassion, Mother." Her anger flared. "As you said, I'm not your daughter." The words stung her as she said them, and she was glad she was able to throw that back in her mother's face. "I'm an Ori."

"Part Ori, part human."

"That will soon change," Adria assured her. She became aware of the futile efforts of SG-1 elsewhere on the ship and frowned. They should have learned by now not to try to circumvent her will, opening doors and messing with panels they shouldn't.

"What is it?" Vala asked.

"Your friends are very determined," Adria said by way of an answer. She closed her eyes, turning her focus to the other parts of the ship. Sparks exploded outward as she manipulated the panels; she could feel the ship's staff's fright and surprise. It gave her satisfaction, but that was fleeting. Daniel, the rest of the crew, Vala...they were all distractions from her true goal. They needed one of their own. The thought of revenge for her fallen brethren filled her as she punched through the coolant pipe running above the infirmary door. Toxic fumes began to fill the hallway outside.

"Vala, if you can hear me, I really need you to open the door!" Daniel called, but Vala could do nothing but stand on the other side of the wall helplessly.

"Adria, stop it. Please!" Vala unexpectedly dove for a gun, and Adria's eyes flashed. She launched the offending object out of her mother's hands and then lashed outward towards her mother, lifting her into the air by the neck. Her mother's fingers scrabbled at nothing as Adria held her there, feeling the power igniting her nerves. Her fatigue was momentarily gone as adrenaline and anger surged in a twin cocktail through her veins.

"I always wondered if you had it in you to kill me," Adria commented. The strain of holding her aloft became too much and she slumped back on the bed, tendrils of power still extended toward her mother. The poison in her body was taking its toll, and she didn't have long now.

Closing her eyes, she quieted herself, quelling her wants and her worries and her anger. In her mind's eye she brought forth the seemingly endless Plains of Celestis, with their ceaseless ripple-waves uniform and peaceful in the slight breeze. She could feel her heartbeat slow as a sense of profound calm came over her as she continued gradually, slowly...letting go. "Goodbye, Mother," she uttered as the warm glow began to suffuse throughout her chest and down to her fingertips.

Her mother fell to the floor even as Adria's skin, bones, and everything in between transformed into a pure energy, casting a radiant red over the infirmary.

_...and the souls of their victims knew no peace, until the Ori came and whispered to them: "Sleep, for the end draws near." And on that day all will rejoice, when the Ori come and lay them low..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria reaches her full potential.

Adria could feel it. The writhing, unbridled power that pervaded this realm, just waiting for one such as herself to harness it. To claim her birthright. It was so blinding it bordered on tangible, and so vast it teetered on the very edge of infinite. With it, Adria felt like she could cause every planet in the galaxy to collide in the center of the universe if she so desired. The sheer divinity of it would have caused her to shed tears had she still corporeal form as she witnessed her first glimpse of the ethereal sight. 

Then came the Alterans, hundreds of them. They did not attack but circled her in a raging white storm of might and prowess and potential. They did not dare confront her directly, not with so much energy at her disposal, but by overwhelming numbers she knew she would be hard-pressed to hold her own against them before she’d even adjusted to life in this realm. Thus met, Adria left the Milky Way Galaxy, returning home. She arrived in the blink of an eye, still marveling at the speeds at which she could now travel. Her newfound omniscience allowed her to see anything she focused on just as it was, from the smallest atom of a grain of sand tracked in on the boots of one of her Ori warriors to the progress of SG-1 in repairing their precious ship,  _ Odyssey _ . How ironic a name for their tiny starship, when those humans could never know the meaning of a true odyssey…the Path to Enlightenment, which she had now traversed. Her all-seeing mind turned to the ancestral home of the Ori, the great City of Celestis, where the Doci knelt in front of the abyss where the Flames of Enlightenment had once burned. Adria willed herself there and then  _ was _ there, standing with a body of flickering tongues of fire in front of him. 

“Rise,” she commanded. Her voice had changed yet again, but this time it was not Ba’al speaking, but her own power. 

The Doci lifted his head and then buried it back towards the floor almost immediately upon seeing her. “Orici!” he gasped. “You have…you have reached…”

“Yes,” Adria confirmed with a self-satisfied smile. “I speak even more for the Ori now, and they—we—are pleased with your efforts.”

“Thank…thank you, Orici,” the Doci murmured, still gazing at the floor. 

“Rise,” Adria repeated. “I wish for a full report as to our progress in the Milky Way.” She could, of course, find it herself, but Adria wished to keep the Doci close to her now, and that meant trusting him with the status of her army. Now that she was ascended, she had better things to focus on besides the day-to-day of managing her troops. 

“Yes, Orici,” he slowly got to his feet. “Our latest reports have three more worlds converted. One of them required some purging of the unbelievers before the rest saw the light of Origin, but your army made quick work of them.”

“Good,” Adria said. “You will appoint a new Prior to head that front, now that I am no longer there to lead them. Perhaps Marckus, or Undvel.”

“I shall relay that order at once,” the Doci agreed. 

She shook her head. “No, wait until we are done. First I want the state of the city.”

“This city?” the Doci questioned. “It is all but abandoned. None but me reside here now.”

“I want it restored,” Adria said, her tone leaving no room for uncertainty. “I want twenty new Priors to staff the halls, and all of the study rooms for the lay people reinstated. Also, I shall require a room in which to reside when I choose to sojourn here.”

“Of course, Orici,” the Doci bowed. “It will take much work to restore the City of Celestis to what it once was. We will have to temporarily halt the construction of the eight new warships…”

“You will not halt construction,” Adria responded calmly. “You will order the return of the flagship through the Supergate, and you will use those men to work on the city. And we are not just restoring it to what it once was…I wish to go beyond what has been done before—to make a city worthy of all the new believers we have led to salvation through Origin.”

The Doci paused. “Yes, Orici. Will that be all?”

“Hallowed are the Ori.”

“Hallowed are the Ori,” he repeated. "Their will and yours will be done, as it has been and always shall be." 

Adria nodded regally and then disappeared in a swirl of fire, abandoning semi-human form. She spent the remainder of what would be considered a day on Celestis seeing that her orders were carried out aboard her warships but quickly grew bored of that. She looked in upon SG-1 and Vala, from whom she felt wracking waves of unhappiness and betrayal. Adria dared not reveal herself, as such an act would not be well received by her mother or any of her friends. She had to be content as being of pure energy hiding in the fabric of the universe as she watched and listened, at least for a little while. Revealing herself on Earth would disturb the relative peace she had orchestrated with her disappearance, the sense of false security. There would be a time and a place for rupturing their little bubble, but that time was not now. 

It occurred to Adria some days later that the speed of mortal events was very, very slow. As the half-human Orici she had never noticed it before, caught up as she was in the demands of an army and a religion. Her days had been filled with conversions, prostration, intimidation, and reports, so many reports. They had occupied her time, kept her busy in service of the Ori. 

Now, however, there was nothing. Nothing to build on this higher plane of existence that she could not build with a flick of thought, nothing in the galaxies to see that she had not already seen. Omniscience was glorious, but perhaps it took the joy and satisfaction out of existing as well. She could not even show feats of her own power to some piddling unconverted world, for the Alterans would stop her. 

The realization came to her with a bitter taste. Ba’al had ruined her carefully laid plans. She had meant to convert the rest of the Milky Way before her Ascension, a feat that would garner her enough power to vanquish the Alterans once and for all. Prematurely in this form, she could no longer lead, no longer affect events, and her holy crusade would be irreparably slowed because of it. Not to mention, Adria was  _ bored _ . 

After the appropriate amount of time had passed, time the Orici had basically bided away, she appeared once more before the Doci and demanded a report. He did not cower as he had last time; it seemed he had gotten used to her new form. “Progress goes well, Orici,” he bowed. “Your flagship has just arrived through the portal and is on its way to us now. They will stop on their way at the planets Mjoln and later Stelau to cull those who hold Origin dearest in their hearts to become your new Priors. They shall arrive in less than three days.”

“Good.”

“Will you bestow upon them the gifts of Origin yourself, Orici?”

The question caught Adria momentarily off-guard, a state she resolved to avoid in the future. “Yes, of course.” In her human form she had reserved that power for only the choicest of specimens—such as Daniel, an egregious mistake in hindsight—but now that the Ori were gone the mantle fell entirely to her. No longer could the Doci receive a response from the Flames of Enlightenment, and no longer could he fully perform his duties without her explicit assistance. “I will go now to the ship, to see it for myself.” 

Adria disappeared from Celestis and reformed aboard the warship, in what had formerly been her quarters. She stepped forward, brushing one glowing hand across her bedspread. She had been born here, less than two years ago, had lived her entire life up to this point on this ship. It was her home, or it had been before she’d ascended. Now it was a room without a purpose, for a being with no need of sleep or even rest. But still, she had memories here, of reading the Book of Origin for the first time under the careful tutelage of the Priors, of her first realization that her mother was an unbeliever, of taking pity on Vala and healing her pain. It was an action that had bothered her Priors immensely at the time, who had worried that Vala Mal Doran might be a weakness for the Orici, the only force in the universe that could pull her away from Origin. They could not understand the bond that ran between them, and thus they could not understand Adria’s choice to negate the suffering of one who rejected Origin or her need for a name besides that of Orici, the name above all names. 

Adria, her mother had named her Adria. She’d shut down her Prior’s doubts with a display of power and grace and devotion, and when she was ready she revealed herself to the rest of the galaxy. She had been born in space, but she remembered clearly the first time she’d visited a planet, a planet named Qui’hamak. She remembered the previously unknown feeling of grass beneath her golden sandals, the sun on her face, the endless expanse of azure sky above her. She remembered speaking to the villagers on a balcony above the center of town flanked by her guards, and then leaving them to walk among the townspeople themselves. 

She also remembered when the magistrate of that town approached, spit on the dirt in front of her, and declared that their town had no need or wish for Origin in their lives. The anger and betrayal she’d felt at their rejection. Throwing the magistrate across the square without laying a finger on him, hearing the satisfying sound of his neck snapping against the edge of a wooden building, and then ordering her warriors to raze the village and burn it to the ground. Thereafter she did not make first contact, but rather appeared only when the people needed more persuading…or to be taught a lesson. 

She’d personally visited dozens of worlds. But she always remembered her first.

"Orici!" said a surprised voice from behind her. Adria turned towards the door, seeing her chambermaid kneeling there in reverence. 

"Feríca," Adria said.

"Hallowed are the Ori, you have returned," Feríca said, getting to her feet. "Prior Vesuvius was alarmed at your disappearance."

"I know," she replied. "He has no need to concern himself any further; I have merely reached my full potential. He will now participate in the restoration of Celestis, a great honor."

"It is a great honor to all of us, to serve you," Feríca stated. "Shall I prepare your quarters for your repose? Or perhaps alert the kitchens, to have something brought up?"

"I no longer require rest nor sustenance," Adria stated sharply. Her chambermaid flinched, and a curious feeling of regret crept over her. "Nevertheless, I still require your services. You have served me faithfully from the day I was born, and you have my word it will not be forgotten in the next life." Lies fell from her tongue in droves; the falsehoods scarcely seemed to register due to her continual utterances.

"Thank you, Orici," Feríca stammered. Adria judged her to be around fifteen years old, with long, wavy brown hair pulled back in a half-braid. She was dressed in humble earth-toned clothing that she had seen many wear around the ship. For the first time Adria wondered where the girl came from—perhaps she was the daughter of some army commander aboard the vessel. 

But no, where Feríca came from was insubstantial and irrelevant. What was important was her faith and devotion, her steadfast service. The Priors responsible for her upbringing almost had not allowed her to keep Feríca, but at the age of eighteen hours and a supposed appearance of five years, she gave them her first order:  _ she stays _ . Perhaps the Priors thought it would ease the transition of her mother’s absence, a female companion amid the scarification and white, pasty faces. 

Instead, Adria returned her focus to what  _ was _ important. "Send Vesuvius to me," she commanded. “I wish to speak with him immediately.”

“Yes, Orici,” Feríca left the room. The aforementioned Prior arrived a few minutes later, looking as grotesque as ever and carrying his crystal-topped staff. 

“Orici,” he inclined his head. “We have picked up twelve candidates for Priorhood from the planet Mjoln. They await your judgment in the holding cells.”

“Good,” Adria said. "Inform the men aboard this ship that they are to put away their armor and weapons. While they are assisting in the restoration of the City of Celestis, they shall have no need of them." 

“As you command.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand, turning back to Feríca. 

“When we arrive, tell the Doci that I want you serving in my personal chambers there until the flagship departs again, as you have here.” Adria disappeared in a column of smokeless flames. 

She surveyed the ship from afar first, before rematerializing in the bowels of the ship where the holding cells were. Everything seemed to be running smoothly—nuclear families in their quarters, her warriors doing their duties. Vesuvius appeared to have returned to the front of the ship to guide it on its course, leaving his subordinates, the two other Priors on board, to relay the orders to the men. Adria had no quarrel with the delineation.

Down in the holding cells, Adria reappeared in front of the group of men clustered there. The holding cells were not cells per se, but rather a collection of large rooms that locked from the outside. Prisoners were kept a deck below in shackles and chains in the punishment block. 

Upon seeing her, the twelve men fell at her feet, bringing a small smile to her lips. Then her features morphed, becoming cold and distant once more. “You have been selected," she addressed them, "for the Rite of Tel’narag. Like Meron and Quistor that came before you, you shall become Priors of Origin, spreading the news of Origin to all those who have yet to receive its gifts. In the Book of Origin, you have read faithfully of the service of Meron and Quistor, and the time has come for you to join their ranks.”

“You are too kind, Orici,” one of the men said. “We are but men, not worthy to brush the dust off your sandals.”

“You are true believers,” Adria told him. "Your faith shall be rewarded." Then she spoke to that man directly, walking over to him. “What is your name?”

“Dorian.”

“Look at me, Dorian.” He slowly raised his head, hazel eyes meeting hers. She placed her palm on his forehead softly and his face contorted in pain, though he did not flinch away or make a sound. Adria could see him now, as devout a man as she had professed him to be. “Do you swear to serve me and the Ori in spreading the word of Origin?”

“I…do…” he ground out. 

“Rise then, as Prior Dorian of the Ori,” she commanded. She summoned a mirror from the side table to her hand and lifted it for him to see his new face. A thin spiral scar graced his left cheek, and the Ori symbol for blessèd his right temple. His hair had glossed over silver, and his skin was as pale as bone. 

“Hallowed are the Ori,” he whispered, reaching one reverent hand to touch his face. She did not have a staff for him yet, but the Doci would provide them when they reached Celestis. The crystals were harvested there, and it was there that they were imbued with their power. 

Adria repeated the process with ten more of the men. When she came to the twelfth, she again placed her hand on his forehead, but her chin snapped upward in shock. The man’s mind was filled with conviction, but not conviction that the Ori would guide him to Enlightenment. Conviction that the Ori were  _ false gods _ . 

Almost immediately her hand burst into flame and she smote him down with it, an ugly burning gash tearing open his face. He keeled over onto the floor with a low whine as newly made Priors simply stood there and watched impassively. The remains of the man's charred skin sent small curls of smoke into the air, but he was not dead yet. Hopelessly disfigured, but not dead. A swirling rage filled her, and her mental shout shook the ship.  _ VESUVIUS! _

The strength of her call was so great that the ring platform outside immediately activated. With a surge of her power the doors snapped open and she swept out of the room, ripples of fury pulsing outwards in her wake. 

The Prior Vesuvius inclined his head, unperturbed by her outburst. “You summoned me, Orici?” His calm only increased her rage. 

“Who selected these men?” Her voice was imperious and full of righteous hate. 

“Prior Emmet went down to the planet.” 

“Bring him to me,” Adria growled. The flames that made up her body unconsciously increased in brightness, until even the Prior had to squint slightly to look at her. 

“As you wish.” His staff began to glow. 

Adria turned to the warriors a little ways down the hall. “Guards! Take the prisoner down to the punishment block,” she commanded, indicating the room she had just vacated. They hastened to follow her order. 

The rings activated once more and a second Prior appeared, looking at her with curiosity in his gaze. She stalked over to him and placed her hand on his head without prelude, fingernails digging into his scalp. Then she pulled backward with all of her strength—not on his skin directly, but on the energy the Ori had once bestowed on him, pulling it free of his body. It evaporated into thin air as soon as her clawed hand released it, the husk of her former Prior falling to his knees. His face kept its wizened look but his forehead was burned where she had ripped his power from him, a blackened mark amid the pasty white. His blue irises were surrounded by red popped blood vessels, and a single bloody tear tracked down his face. It dropped onto the polished floor of the Ori flagship. 

Adria looked away in disgust—not at her actions, but at the pathetic entity before her. The Orici did not abide failure. “Remove him from my sight,” she ordered, and another set of warriors hurried to do her bidding. They grasped him by the shoulder-sleeves of his robe, dragging him away. His foot scuffed feebly against the floor as they went along. 

“Do you wish to interrogate the prisoners, Orici?” Vesuvius asked. 

“Do it yourself,” Adria spat, her rage slowly abating down to a simmer. “When you’re done,  _ you _ will go to the next planet.” She turned and stalked off down the hallway, adding, “I will now be needing  _ nine _ new candidates from Stelau.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria interrogates Daniel. Or is it the other way around?

Adria was standing in the cool waters of Celestis. Calm waves lapped at her ankles, tickling her nerves. It was nighttime, and the unpolluted sky was slight with the white specks of thousands of stars. "Orici," a deep, directionless voice said. "Your work has pleased us greatly."

"Who are you?" the Orici demanded. The stars above her began to shimmer until they were cascading in a giant waterfall of light onto Celestis. Wispy ribbons of pearl coalesced into human form, a veritable army materializing in front of her, though these were no warriors. 

"We're your parents, Orici," the man directly in front of her said. "You have done well, but there is still far to go. We're here to make that easier on you." He gestured to his side, and Adria looked to her right. Vala was there, done up in glowing chains and bleeding from a large cut on her forehead. "We're your  _ real _ parents, Orici," he assured her. "She is no longer necessary, like that preposterous name she gave you. We will rid you of her, and then we may better continue your crusade. Together." His dark eyes glittered.

"Is that really necessary?" Adria asked, shifting to one side. 

"It is." A giant gash was rent in the earth and Vala fell through the red gaping hole, like the mouth of some colossal creature swallowing her up. Adria ran to the edge just in time to see her mother's body sinking into the lava below. 

"Don't tell us you  _ feel _ for her," the man approached her from behind. "She was an incubation vessel, nothing more. Now, onto your crusade…"

The Orici woke with a start. She threw the covers off herself reflexively, leaping to her feet and beginning to pace the room as she waited for her rapid heartbeat to calm. The dreams, she had forgotten about the dreams to which humans were susceptible. It was nonsensical, of course, as most human things were—the Ori were gone, Vala most certainly had not fallen into a pool of molten rock. But it had felt real, and Adria did not like being tricked, least of all by her own mind. She must exert an iron will to prevent occurrences such as this in the future, because she was not human. Being housed in the body of one was no excuse for being made a fool of as she slept, no excuse for not being in complete control over her own faculties. 

Adria resolved to do better. 

Feríca entered a few moments later, saying, "Orici, are you all right?" The girl's hair was mussed from sleep, but she bowed upon the sight of Adria.

"I'm fine," she replied. 

"Is there anything you require?"

"Not at the moment," Adria said. Feríca bowed again and retreated back into her quarters, separated from Adria's by only a crimson velvet curtain. She was at the Orici's beck and call, but more often she didn't even have to say a word before the girl appeared—Adria could rule Earth in a matter of minutes if her troops maintained that kind of dedication. 

Adria dressed quickly and headed out into the main hallway of the ship, her mind still disquieted. The corridor was dim, quiet, and half-lit, and her soft footsteps pounded like drums against the stone floor. Everyone was in bed except for the few guards that lined the walls, one on each side every hundred feet in full armor, staffs held straight and ready. They weren't really necessary, Adria supposed as she walked by the first one—it was impossible to sneak aboard her ship as they traveled through space faster than the speed of light—but appearances mattered as well. She stopped suddenly, eyes narrowing, and took a step backward to stand in front of one of the guards. Through the slits of his helmet, she could see his eyes were closed. The Orici considered for a moment, then cast out her hand toward the bottom of his cloak, lighting a small fire at the hem. The flames began to lick hungrily further up the fabric, heat pervading the chilly air of the ship. 

Adria walked on. 

Vesuvius stood alone on the deck of the ship, staring outward into the stars. "Orici," he said, "you are human once again."

"Housed in a human body," Adria corrected. "Do not make that mistake again, Prior."

He inclined his head. "What can I do for you, Orici?"

"Did you track down Ba'al's ship after the people of Earth abducted me?"

"We did. Your warriors searched the mothership for you, but they found only an empty cage and the System Lord's dead body."

"Did you recover my pendant?" Adria demanded. "I wish to wear it again, now that I am reliant on flesh and blood once more."

"Yes." Out of the folds of his robe he produced the shard of Celestis, its leather cord hanging limply from his pasty hand. Adria took it and lifted it so that the pendant dangled before her eyes. The stone seemed paler than usual, but perhaps that was due to prolonged disconnection with the Orici, its power source. She slipped it over her head, settling it in the center of her chest so that the cool gem was touching her skin. 

It was where it belonged, and she could finally put everything that happened with Ba’al behind her. 

* * *

“Hallowed are the Ori,” Prior Avernix greeted her as she stepped off the platform.

“Hallowed are the Ori,” Adria repeated back. “Prior Vesuvius put you in charge of the prisoners?”

“Yes, Orici. Does that displease you?”

“Not at all,” Adria replied. “You are one of the most talented, and these will be the most obstinate targets you are ever likely to have. Back on Celestis, the one in charge of the cells there proved to be woefully incompetent.”

“Already I have seen that,” Avernix gave a slight incline of his head. “The Jaffa is hardest of all to affect because of his sleep-state, but beyond him the one who calls himself Daniel Jackson.”

“Keep trying,” Adria instructed. “Daniel was a Prior himself once, so he may retain some residual barrier to the probing.”

“It is not that, Orici,” Avernix said. “He was once ascended.”

“Is that so?” Adria asked testily, absorbing this new piece of information. Daniel, an Alteran? No wonder he was so attached. 

“Indeed. I believe his story is like that of Rasib, as it is written in the Book of Origin. He lived in the light of Origin for most of his life, but when it came time for him to ascend, he became greedy and desired more than his share of the eternal bliss. The rest of the Ori discovered this and banished him from the afterlife to live among doomed heathens such as himself.”

“That is none of your concern now,” Adria replied brusquely. He was speaking nonsense, of course—nothing in the Book of Origin had actually happened, but sometimes she forgot how much her most devout followers adhered to it. “Leave us. I wish to speak to Daniel alone. Return only when it is time for their next dose.”

He dipped his head respectfully. “Orici.” 

Once the Prior had disappeared in a flash of white light, Adria continued on her way. She passed Teal’c—she would have to do something about his unacceptable state of kelno’reem soon—and then Carter, who appeared to be asleep, albeit fitfully. 

"You're human," Daniel said as soon as she stopped in front of his cell. Grime had begun to coat his hands and clothing and his hair was somewhat slicked with sweat. His blue eyes, however, were as bright and piercing as ever. He looked down, as if speaking to himself, his voice dropping to a whisper, "You're human."

Why did everyone keep commenting on that? Adria thought exasperatedly. It was growing tiresome, their constant fixation on her state of being. The Orici did what she wanted when she wanted and by whichever means she wished. It was not for a Prior or Daniel Jackson to question. 

Daniel refocused on her again. "Why?"

"I did not come to talk about me," Adria snapped. "Obviously the Priors have not been doing their job well enough, for you to maintain so much insolence. I shall inform them to heighten the intensity of your agony."

"Won't work," Daniel said, mouth twisting. He tapped the floor with his thumb. "I figured out a trick. Know what it is?" He paused. "Trick is to concentrate on one truth in your mind, keep repeating it over and over, over and over until you feel like you're going crazy. But when that…that  _ noise _ stops, you're still you."

"You may maintain that you are unaffected by the Priors as much as you desire, Daniel," Adria told him. "I am unconcerned with your bluff. What I want from you is information."

"You want to know what truth I focused on?" Daniel asked, ignoring her. "This:  _ we will defeat you _ ."

Adria's eyes narrowed, anger igniting her veins. Her posture stiffened. "Colonel Carter is a mere twenty paces from here. Perhaps you would like me to pay her a visit instead? I'll still get my information, but with her I won't be asking as nicely as I am you…"

Daniel sighed. "If you could get information out of Carter, you would have already. She has way more knowledge of the defensive capabilities of Earth, as I'm sure you want to know, than I do. But she’s military, and she would never betray Earth."

"Or perhaps I should offer a shot of tretonin for Teal'c? I am told that the Jaffa does not look well."

"He’s faking," Daniel said matter-of-factly with a hint of contempt. "As I was saying…you're human. Back at the city, you were ascended, walking around as a column of flames. So either that was a facade, or—"

"And what of Vala?"

"You wouldn't hurt her. She's your mother."

"She also tried to kill me aboard the Odyssey. There is no more relation between us than there is between you and I." She had hit a weak spot, and Adria dug in with satisfaction. "I will get the information I seek, whether you cooperate or not. Your actions from here on out can only cause her pain, Daniel. Do you want to hear her screams echoing off these walls? Do you want to hear them and know that she is all alone in a hard, dark cell experiencing agony the likes of which she has never known? Do you want to hear her pain and know that you are the cause, that you could have saved her from it but refused to do so out of spite?" 

"Fine," the man ground out. "But it'll be a trade. You answer one of my questions, I'll answer one of yours."

"You are in no position to bargain. Tell me of the ruler of Earth."

"There is no ruler," Daniel said, eyebrows furrowing. 

"Anarchy is highly inefficient," Adria scoffed, "but it shall only make Earth more susceptible to Origin. 

"There are almost two hundred different countries on Earth, each with their own form of government."

"How chaotic. Organized anarchy, then."

"Diverse," Daniel countered. "And that's why your crusade will fail—people on Earth value their individuality too much."

"But I suppose most would value their lives more?" Adria smirked. "You seem to think I plan on giving them a choice, Daniel. Obviously you don't know me very well."

"No, and I don't want to," he muttered darkly. 

"Regardless, you and I will be spending much time together over the next few days," Adria promised. 

"Then can you release my hands?" Daniel asked, lifting them to the limits of the shackles. Her lips curved upwards in response and she gave him an amused look. "Oh, come on, what am I going to do, attack you? I'm no more of a threat to you with your Celestis pendant than I was when you were ascended and throwing me across the room."

"I like you as you are," Adria replied. "Now, who will attempt to greet me when I arrive?"

"If I were at the con, you'd be greeted by our entire nuclear arsenal as soon as you entered the solar system, but…"

"Nuclear," Adria repeated, eyes narrowing. "These are your most advanced explosives. They cause massive radiation exposure, yes?"

"Speaking of radiation," Daniel interrupted, "how exactly are you human again? Did you actually retake human form, or did you somehow find a way to house an ascended consciousness in a human body and bypass the radiation issues?"

She smacked him across the face, producing a highly satisfying sound and tingling sensation in her hand. He blinked, cheek rapidly blossoming pink and a droplet of blood pooled at the corner of his mouth. "What did I say about your tiresome questions, Daniel?"

"I think you did it because the Ancients wouldn't allow you back in the Milky Way as an ascended." Daniel spat a globule of blood out onto the stone floor. "That means you're not yet powerful enough to defeat them. And based on the progress of your crusade when the Odyssey left for Dakara, I'm betting there isn't much left in the galaxy to convert. You can't risk pissing them off until you've got enough energy to take them on, and that means converting Earth. You can't threaten the lives of the people of Earth, you need them." Adria stared at him. He was much more intelligent than she'd previously given him credit for, to come to as close a conclusion as that. 

"So what if what you say is true?" The Orici smiled. "I have no need to keep secrets from you, Daniel Jackson. This changes your position  _ nothing _ . You are still aboard my ship, you are still my prisoner, and we are still headed to Earth."

"It means I have a goal while I'm sitting here," Daniel smiled, desperately triumphant. "I know they can hear me—I'm sure she, at least, is listening. All I have to do is convince Morgan and the rest of the Ancients to stop you before it's too late, before you convert so many that they'll lose the war."

"They'll never listen," Adria promised. "They're blinded by their own self-righteousness. They won't break their own laws for fear of becoming like the Ori themselves."

"We'll see," Daniel challenged. 

"You are a fool," Adria spat. "Guards!" Two of her warriors came running. "Unchain Vala and take her to the rings."

"What are you doing?" Delicious fear had permeated Daniel's voice and eyes once again. "What are you going to do to her?"

"I informed you of the consequences of your insolence when we began, Daniel," Adria replied loftily. "You chose not to listen. You chose to defy me." The Orici stalked from his cell, motioning for the guards, who had just finished undoing the chains, to come her way. Vala's hair was disheveled and lank and her mother shuffled forward with dragging feet, whether as a form of feeble resistance or because of the scrunched position she had been forced into for so long. Vala's eyes were slightly bloodshot—clearly the Prior's method of torture had had much more of an affect on her than it had Daniel. 

Adria caused them to slow in front of Daniel's cell, ostensibly because of the narrow space with the Orici partially blocking their way, but serving to parade her by him as well, to have Daniel take in her frail form. Just as she was about to follow, Daniel growled, "Wait." She paused, smirking to herself in the semi-darkness before turning back around to face him and receive his inevitable repentance. Her mind subconsciously set up a barrier in front of the guards to halt them where they stood, just beyond the visibility of her prisoner. "You won't torture her," Daniel said. "If you were going to do that, you would be doing that down here, where I could…how did you put it? Hear her screams." His face hardened. "You just want me to think you are."

Adria stared at him coldly for a moment, then snapped her hand out so quickly that a bone in her wrist gave a small pop. A metal rod full of  light blue liquid from the opposite wall of the punishment block zoomed into her hand and she twirled it once, quickly, by her side before grasping it tightly. Power flowed from her into the rod and it began to glow, first a dull cherry red and then white hot. She lunged forward, grabbing her mother’s arm to pull her partially into view and pressing the metal to her mother's abdomen. 

Vala's screams echoed across the punishment block. There was a momentary twinge of guilt in Adria's gut, but it was just that—momentary. No longer would no one take her seriously, no longer would anyone question her orders or fall asleep on watch. They would see how dedicated she was. Adria was willing to do anything to further her cause, and they all would know it. 

She retracted her arm after a few seconds, leaving only the stench of singed fabric and sizzled flesh lingering in the air. The heat slowly died from the rod in her hand.

Adria forced herself to look at Vala expressionlessly as her mother doubled over and fell to one knee, breaths coming in gasps. She waved for the guards to continue taking her away before turning back to Daniel's stricken face. "You underestimated me again," Adria stated calmly. By force of will she kept her voice icy and fluid. "I do intend to torture Vala, but I do not intend to kill her for a long while yet. On the above deck is a place useful for prolonging pain without fear of accidentally going too far and killing our prisoners." Her lips twisted into some perverted form of a smile. "But I do hope you enjoyed your demonstration. That will leave a  _ nasty _ scar for her to remember you by."

Daniel said nothing, only glared at her. 

Adria left, carelessly casting the metal rod out behind her. She had no more need of it. The Orici caught up with her guards just as they reached the ring platform, and she commanded them all into the circle before activating them with her mind. The two guards, who were now supporting Vala more than dragging her, appeared surprised as they suddenly stepped into the opulence of Adria's personal chambers. "Put her there," Adria ordered, pointing to the bedspread. "Leave us." The warriors hurried to comply, leaving Adria and Vala alone. Feríca arrived with a sweep of the curtain, taking in the sight of the bedraggled, wounded Mother of the Orici uncertainly. "Run a bath," Adria told her without turning around. "Then inform the nearest soldiers that I shall be needing another bed erected in here, over there." She indicated the mostly-empty room branching off of hers with a wave of her hand. The girl hurriedly did as ordered. 

"I'm sorry it had to come to that, Mother," Adria said as soon as they were alone. "Daniel forced my hand."

"Yeah, right," Vala bit out. Her hands found their way to her stomach and she pressed on either side of the seared flesh. 

"Here, let me," Adria said, stepping forward, but her mother pushed her away. 

"No! No, you don't get to do that, Adria, inflict pain and then heal it and pretend everything's okay. Because it's not!"

"Mother, you're being hysterical," she admonished. "Really, let me. It's only a flesh wound, easily healed. It'll take practically no energy at all—"

"Adria! I said no," Vala said sharply, her arms thrown up as if to protect herself.

"Don't be silly, Mother." Adria's eyes were already closed as she concentrated, sending a ribbon of energy towards Vala's wound. It closed up over itself and she opened her eyes with a satisfied smile. Vala glowered at her. "There," Adria smiled. "It's just like when I was born. I healed you then too."

"Except back then I didn't know how much of a power-hungry egomaniac you were going to grow up to be," Vala muttered. 

"Come, the bathwater is most likely ready," Adria said. "You can get the grime off you. It'll feel good." She snaked a tendril of power around the small metal chain linking the cuffs of Vala's hand, applying a slight forward pressure as an incentive to follow her into the washroom.

Her mother stared at the tub with distaste. She tested the water with an outstretched finger. "It's cold."

Adria laughed lightly. "On Earth, do they bathe in hot water?"

"Well, yes."

"They certainly did not do that on Meridian. Have you forgotten your roots?" Adria asked, a knowing smile all over her face. "I would like to hear more of Meridian, Mother. I would like to know where you came from."

"Don't even try, Adria," Vala snapped. "You don't care where I came from, you just want to get closer to me so that I'll join your misguided crusade. You think there’s still a chance after everything you’ve done to me." 

"You're not yourself right now," Adria said, maintaining the pleasant curvature of her lips with some difficulty. "We'll speak again when you're feeling better, after you're clean." She cast a hand over the tub, heating the water until steam began to rise from it  in wisps. "I'm afraid the remains of your SG-1 clothes were ruined by the rod, but I'll have Feríca find you something to wear—something much more fitting now that you're on the main levels of the ship. I’ll await your company.” Adria left the washroom, shutting and locking the door behind her. 

Feríca bowed upon seeing her. “The warriors are coming with the bed now, Orici. Shall I have it done up in the same way as yours?”

“Yes. You will serve her now, as well—except per my explicit instructions, you will do as she says. You are not to release her bindings, or allow her to help or contact anyone else aboard this ship, especially the prisoners, but food, water—attend to her basic needs as you would me. Find some of her old clothing from when she was last on board and have it laid out for her. Don’t unlock the bathroom until I return. I have some other business to attend to in the meantime.”

“Yes, Orici.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SG-1 messes with Adria's plans...again.

It was the fifth day of the month Castiel on Celestis when she received the news. “A Prior has been killed on the planet Dakara.”

“What?” Adria demanded, swirling to face the Doci. “By whom?”

His voice was low and menacing. “The unbelievers who call themselves SG-1.” 

"What were they doing there?" Adria hissed. "Why was the Prior even there? Dakara is nothing but a desert wasteland now; I made sure of that."

"They were reported in search of a weapon to use against us."

"The superweapon is gone; I verified that for myself," Adria stated. Perhaps more was hidden on Dakara than they had originally thought. It was, after all, the Alterans’ first landing site after arriving in that galaxy. "How do you know of this?"

"The death of a Prior is an act that cannot go unpunished," the Doci answered. "News of it was deemed a priority and sent through the portal. This event occurred less than an hour ago. One of the warriors witnessed the entirety."

"I will speak to him at once." 

The warrior in question was in his quarters when Adria appeared on the ship. She no longer concerned herself with the prospect of the Alterans interfering as she materialized in the Milky Way. If they weren’t going to stop her from visiting Earth, they certainly wouldn’t from moving about her own fleet as she wished. The doors slid open by the force of her mind, and a woman holding the hand of a small child looked up abruptly at her entrance. She immediately scooped the child up to her chest, murmuring, “Orici.”

"It’s all right, Madeleine, she’s here to talk to me," the warrior said from the corner. He stood, brushing his hands off. 

"That’s right," Adria said. She looked at the wife and child. "Leave us." The woman glanced uncertainly at her husband and then left the room. "Tell me everything you saw," Adria commanded. 

"I was part of the squadron sent down to the planet to apprehend a group of unbelievers," he began. "The Prior had sensed their presence here, and he sent us to investigate. When we arrived, they held their weapons up against us, but they were cornered and outnumbered. Our commander promised them they would not be harmed if they surrendered peacefully, and they did. One of them had a large brown box in front of him, and when the Prior came the unbeliever told him that it contained a means to destroy the Ori. The Prior ordered Salla and me to open it, but it was sealed shut. He then ordered the commander to blast it open, but when he did it was filled with old scrolls that disintegrated at his touch. The Prior immediately ordered the commander to kill the unbelievers, but he defied the order, saying he promised they would be spared. The Prior yelled at him that he was tired of his questioning and that he was to kill them now, or be killed himself. I recognized the Mother of the Orici among the unbelievers, but I am not sure how many others did. It was she who told our commander than the Prior couldn't hurt him, and to prove it their leader took one of our weapons and shot the Prior. Everyone else surrendered, but I hid among the ruins until they had left with Commander Tomin.”

"Tomin?" Adria recoiled, eyes flashing. "Your commander was Tomin? He is with SG-1 now?"

"He went willingly." Adria’s anger kindled at the outright betrayal, although it was mixed with a drop of satisfaction that she had been right not to let him stay on Celestis. "The rest of the warriors used the Stargate to go to a different planet. They were unfaithful to the Ori because they had seen the Prior killed."

"You witnessed it as well," Adria said. "Why did you not desert like the rest of them?" She had no need to fear an infiltration by this man—she would detect the necessary falsehoods uttered in her presence—but she was curious. 

The man looked her straight in the eye, an act she did not often see among her followers. "Whatever evil magicks the unbelievers performed to kill that Prior, it is not a sign that the Ori are false or weak. As it says in the Book of Origin, the ways of the Ori’s enemies are wicked and unholy. I believe it was something of that kind which allowed the Prior to be killed, despite the powers he was blessed with."

Adria considered the warrior in front of her with a small smile on her lips. "You were faithful when none of your comrades were. For that you shall be rewarded. In Tomin’s absence, I am in need of a new commander. You shall fill that position."

"Thank you," the man bowed. 

"Tell no one of what you witnessed on Dakara," Adria ordered. She turned to exit the room. 

"Orici?" the man stopped her. "The artifact they found? They called it an ark." She stared at him for a second, thoughts churning. Then she inclined her head slightly and continued on her way. 

An ark. If SG-1 had spent time digging through the rubble of Dakara, it must be something important. The word rang familiar in her head, and she delved into the Ori knowledge at her disposal. There were several references to an ark: the ark Melius had built when his village had flooded in the Book of Origin, the ark that Ranel was sailing when he achieved Enlightenment. And then…  _ Ameria verimas _ . The Ark of Truth. They were hunting a legend. A myth.

Disgruntled annoyance filled Adria. They were still trying to stop her, still looking for some long-lost Alteran saving grace. It was a bit pathetic, really. No matter what they did, Adria would always be one step ahead of them. She was the Orici, after all. They would just have to be dissuaded…again. 

Adria entered the higher plane, heading back to Celestis. When she arrived, she would order a final move on Earth; seven ships should be suffi—

A glowing ball of white slammed into her, knocking her off course and sending them both tumbling across the space of galaxies. Enraged, Adria launched herself back at her attacker, feeling the pulse of Alteran energy beneath her as she grappled with the entity. The white form flew out from under her before Adria could reach into her full Ori potential, transmuting into the shape of a woman. In response Adria mirrored her, taking on her celestial body. 

"Orici," the woman acknowledged. Her face was stern. "You must stop this rampage."

"Ganos Lal," Adria growled. She affixed the Alteran with a cold stare. "My brethren remembered you well. Are you going to be the one to stop me?"

"You are causing mass destruction," Morgan le Fay continued. "Innocent lives are being lost to service your crusade. It must end."

"It is their rejection of Origin that causes them to die," Adria said. "They refuse to accept the natural order of things, and their lives become forfeit."

"We are not gods, Adria."

" _ You _ are not a god," the Orici smirked. "I will concur to that. But I am what I choose to be."

"Stand down, Adria," Morgan warned sharply. "Release this ambition of yours, or we will—"

"Or you will what?" Adria interrupted mockingly. "Or you’ll kill me? I’d like to see you try. You can’t interfere, not without breaking your own laws. You can do  _ nothing _ ."

"Remember what I have said." Morgan collapsed back into her energy form and disappeared. The Orici smiled to herself. The deterrence tactics of the Alterans had failed, all empty threats and false assertions designed to trick her. She anticipated the day when she finally vanquished the Alterans with delight—perhaps she would save Morgan le Fay for last, make her watch the destruction of her own race. With the Ori destroyed by Merlin’s Sangraal, this was no longer just a war. It was a vendetta. 

She hadn’t been powerful enough to save the Ori from their fate, but the Alterans could well be sure she’d avenge them. 

A sense of urgency and alarm filled her, and she immediately returned her attention to Celestis. "Doci, what has happened?" she demanded, appearing before him in her usual flame-built outfit. 

"The Earth ship has come through the portal," he answered. 

"Destroy it."

"We cannot, Orici. It jumped to hyperspace immediately."

"They can’t stay there forever," Adria stated purposefully. "Have all the ships on alert. Fire on sight." 

* * *

Adria surveyed the room critically. Her chambermaid Feríca stood off to the side, anxious and waiting. The hall was built with amber-toned marble and stone, and the marble steps of the dais bordered on a shade of red. Twin fires blazed at the front of the room, and between them an erect gold symbol of the Ori was mounted to the wall. On one side hung a painting depicting the parable of the Welden and the wolves and on the other the legendary Prior Tyolus speaking to the people of the low plains. A small band of Ori writing was inscribed in the center of the walls, going all the way around the room. Upon closer examination, Adria found that it was the story of coming of the promised one, the Orici. A small, satisfied smile graced her lips, and Feríca visibly relaxed. 

“It will do well, thank you,” Adria said. “You will serve here until I decide otherwise. Make sure to maintain the fires. If they go out…” She did not need to finish her sentence for her meaning to be understood. 

Slow footsteps came from outside, and Adria turned to see the Doci approaching, hands clasped over his chest. “We have located the Earth ship, Orici,” he informed her. “They suddenly started causing a disturbance that Prior Vesuvius was able to detect.”

“Where is it coming from?” she demanded eagerly. 

“Here, Orici.” 

She stared at him for a second. “Here?”

“On the other side of the planet, over Ortus Mallum. They are maintaining a high orbit in tandem with the normal rotation of Celestis.”

“The mountain,” she mused. “Why would they… They cannot think to hide there and not be discovered. Something else…” Her eyes widened. “The ark. They think it’s here.”

“The ark, Orici? Of what do you speak?”

“It’s of no importance,” Adria said quickly, returning her voice to its normal commanding tone. “Send warriors to that location, directly under their ship. SG-1 is on the ground. And rally four nearby warships to launch a coordinated attack—even their most advanced shields cannot withstand that display of Origin’s power.”

“The ship and the intruders will be destroyed,” the Doci inclined his head.

“No. Destroy the ship, but capture whoever is on the ground.” She smiled coldly. “I wish to speak with them.”

“Of course,” the Doci bowed again. “Hallowed are the Ori.”

“Hallowed are the Ori.” Adria turned back to the Ori shrine, melting into her energy form and filling the space with flames. The Doci’s milky eyes widened and he fell to his knees before the dais. 

"Rieversi sund," he whispered.  _ They have returned _ . Adria did not correct him. She was an Ori now; she wore the mantle. They were not truly dead while she still breathed and carried on their legacy. 

* * *

"The Earth ship escaped." Those were not the words Adria wanted to hear from the Doci when next he came to visit her, and she let him know with the burning flames in her eyes. "But we can still track it. The specialized core of their ship is still online, and that is what alerted us to its presence here in the first place."

"And SG-1?"

"The prisoners are unconscious and being taken to the dungeons," the Doci answered, and Adria’s eyes returned to their normal red-gold. "The Jaffa was unavoidably killed in the capture. The other three await your judgment." 

"The other three?" Adria asked. "Who is missing?"

"The Ori have not privileged me with the knowledge of the names of our enemies," the Doci answered cryptically. Adria disappeared, locating the prison block with her mind. She stood to the side as the limp bodies of SG-1 were dragged in by her warriors. First, Daniel. His head was bruised on one side, but he appeared relatively unhurt. Then Tomin, pale and haggard. Blood dripped from an Ori staff weapon’s graze in his arm. And last, Vala Mal Doran. 

Adria could not help the feeling of joy that followed her satisfaction at seeing her mother again. It had been too long since she had last seen her, too long since she had spied on them in the SGC disguised as one of their military personnel. Adria had stayed away for her own good—her mother was a distraction she could ill-afford while coordinating both the restoration of an ancient city and the conversion of thousands of new believers a galaxy away. Nevertheless Vala had strayed into her thoughts periodically, and Adria had had no illusion that she would not someday find herself spending more time trying to convince her mother of the righteousness of Origin. It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again, and on this occasion Adria did not plan on letting her mother escape once more. 

"Orici, we found this with them," one of the warriors said, indicating behind him. Two more of her soldiers emerged from the light of outside, hefting between them a large, dark gray box. The top had a raised cylinder with symbols on the sides. A red crystal was inset in the center of the cylinder. The ark. 

“Did you open it?”

“No, Orici.”

“Good. Take it to my chambers and leave it there—allow no one else near it.” She looked at the other warriors still awaiting orders. “Bandage his wound,” she indicated Tomin. “And strip them all of any weapons they might have.” They hurriedly did so. “Now leave us.” She turned toward the Prior who had just arrived at the door. “Torture them. Then have Vala Mal Doran delivered to my quarters when they have been suitably chastised.” The Prior nodded once slowly, his staff beginning to glow. Still unconscious, Daniel curled slightly into a ball and Tomin began to shake. Vala let out a low moan. Adria disappeared, rematerializing a few feet away within the confines of her mother’s cell. She moved a stray lock of hair out of Vala’s upturned face. “I’ll see you soon, Mother.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria goes up against the grand plan of SG-1 and Morgan le Fay.

Adria watched as two Priors dragged Vala by the upper arms into the room. She could tell her mother was weaker than she had been an hour ago—there was a new sheen of sweat on her brow, a vague pain behind the eyes. Vala stepped cautiously forward once they’d released her, touching a hand reverently to the ark that was sitting on a small table in the center of the room. Adria could sense her disbelief that the artifact they’d been looking for was just sitting out, exposed, and then Vala looked up at the flaming Ori symbol suspiciously. "So much for the rumors," Vala muttered. 

Adria descended from her perch, leaving the symbol empty. She gave Vala a small, knowing smile before moving towards her, stepping around the ark as she did so. "Good to see you, Mother. Or should I call you Vala?" Adria asked. "I believe you renounced our blood relation last time I saw you." She began to circle both Vala and the ark. 

"It seems you have no blood left to speak of," Vala responded tiredly. She placed her hands on the edges of the ark, turning away from Adria.

"You’ll be somewhat satisfied to know that Merlin’s weapon did work," she continued. "The Ori were destroyed."

"Really?" Vala sounded more bored than impressed. Adria could not abide that. She vanished and reappeared on the other side of the room before continuing her circling, no longer allowing Vala room to ignore her. If her mother truly looked, setting all her predispositions aside, then perhaps she would finally accept that Adria had been right all along. Perhaps she would finally accept Origin. 

"Somehow, you and your simple human friends managed to destroy quite a large group of very powerful ascended beings." Adria kept her voice light, amused almost, making sure nothing in her tone or manner belied the fury she still felt burning inside of her for that betrayal. Vala had abandoned her, fled the Ori ship on which Adria was born the moment she could, and then she and her newfound friends destroyed the only beings who had ever shown her anything more than servitude and cruelty. They destroyed those that made her special, those responsible for everything she had and was. As humans so often did, they acted before they thought, and they would pay the price for their impulsiveness. The people of Earth would soon know the vengeance of the Ori. 

"Well, we’re a very determined bunch. I always say, you never know what you can do until you try," Vala replied. 

"I agree."

"You don’t seem too cut up about it," Vala commented. She was wrong. 

But Adria smiled. "No." It was a half-truth, but a lie nonetheless. "The energy transferred to the Ori by their human followers used to be spread out among many. Now that I have ascended, I get it all."

"If you don’t kill us all first," Vala said darkly. Adria ignored her. 

"It’s a shame I can’t use your little discovery to convince everyone in your galaxy to follow me. It would be much more humane." She laughed, and Vala looked at her, startled. "Not as much fun, though."

"Not wanting to give you any ideas, but why can’t you use the Ark?"

"It’s just not the same," Adria lied. She spread her arms. "People need to be convinced to see me for what I really am."

"A spoiled brat with a god complex?"

Adria smiled, for now amused with her mother’s pertinacity. "Now, mother," she scolded. 

"The Ark can only be programmed to make people believe what is true," Vala said. She looked at Adria directly for the first time, resolve bolstered for having figured it out.

It did not matter. "Once the Ancients have been destroyed, I will be a being of unchallengeable power, worshipped by all those beneath me. A true god by any definition, wouldn’t you say?" Her lips curled upward again in satisfaction, confident in her plan. 

Vala sighed. "Why do you need to take on the Ancients? Seriously, how many human worshippers do you really need? Can’t you just live with what you have and be happy?" She stepped closer and Adria watched her warily. She would not allow Vala to become a weakness, no matter how much she wanted to convert her mother to Origin by any means necessary. "I mean, my own mother used to say to me, ‘Vala, happiness is not something you can buy.’ Or, in my case, steal. But I think the point is—"

"They are a threat to me," Adria interrupted her rambling. A small wave of power radiated from her, stopping Vala in her tracks as it pulsed outwards. 

She recovered her balance after a moment. "From what I understand, they don’t even care about you. They saw the Ori as a threat, and they did nothing about that."

"That’s what you chose to believe," Adria said, for the first time allowing a bit of her anger to show. "They gave you the means to destroy the Ori. They’ll stop at nothing to destroy me. I will not rest until they are all wiped from existence."

Her mother sighed. "I wish you hadn’t inherited my determination."

"And I wish you wouldn’t have tried to kill me the last time we met. You’ll wish you hadn’t too, soon enough."

"Adria, really, threats? I thought we’d moved past that phase in our relationship," Vala countered bravely, but Adria could detect the apprehension within her. 

The Orici smiled, ignoring her words. She made eye contact, speaking earnestly. "You and your friends  _ will  _ fail, mother. I promise you that." A shift distracted her, a shift in the balance of the universe. Her vision changed from looking at Vala to looking through her, until she came to the site of the phenomenon. Four of her warships, halted in mid-void. Ahead of them lay the Earth ship Odyssey, but an invisible force had halted them all where they were, engines vibrating uselessly. It was not a mechanical problem, not with all four at once and the engines still thrusting ahead. No, this was the work of an ascended. An Alteran, breaking their most paramount of laws? Adria would have bet a thousand warriors that it was Ganos Lal doing the meddling. 

Vala looked at her curiously, no doubt having noticed Adria’s sudden lapse. Adria paid her no mind; her mother was going nowhere for the time being, especially once the Odyssey was finally destroyed. She melted back into the flames of the Ori symbol. Vala would see the truth that Adria was trying so hard to bestow upon her. Soon.

For now the Orici turned her focus to her warships. In her mind’s eye she could see the barrier forestalling them, one of pulsating white light that spread in ripples across its surface. Morgan le Fay appeared to be hiding herself, whether from Adria or from her own kind, but Adria knew she must be nearby to command so much power as to hold four ships at bay. Granted, much of it would come from Morgan’s own force of mind, but it had to have some impact on the Alterans. Either they had grown so complacent with the destruction of the Ori—an egregious mistake, as she would soon demonstrate to them—or she had been right that the Alterans were trying to kill her, in which case the outcome would be the same. Their annihilation. 

Reaching into her own power, Adria focused on the bright barrier, imagining ribbons of fire coating it. Streaks of red began to appear across the barrier, lines becoming cracks becoming fissures. On the ascended plane the sound was deafening, like the crackling of a bonfire magnified by a million times. Her eyes narrowed and she strained further, putting all of her formidable force of will into the destruction of that white wall. Finally it shattered into glowing shards in front of her and the fragmented pieces began to fade away as Ganos Lal released the power, defeated. Her ships began moving once again, surrounding the small Earth ship.  _ Fire _ , Adria instructed the four Priors. Beams of bright blue shot towards the Odyssey, whose shields dissipated them. The next volley was not put off so easily as the Earth ship’s shields faltered slightly under the strain. It would not be long until the ship—and everyone on it—was destroyed. 

Feeling no need to watch her inevitable success, Adria returned to her hall where she had left Vala. Flames filled the Ori symbol and the Doci immediately knelt on one knee and bowed his head. They were not alone. The traitor Tomin lay off to the side, blinking groggily as Adria retook bodily form. The Jaffa Teal’c—whom her warriors had foolishly reported dead; she would have to deal with the ineptitude of her soldiers later—was slumped against the wall. Vala and Daniel turned to look at her. She could detect apprehension and a resigned determination from them, a determination she would soon snuff out. “It’s over,” the Orici informed them. “You can’t win. There is only one path.” She raised her hands, smiling. “The power and glory of Origin.” Daniel looked at Vala. 

Morgan le Fay coalesced in the doorway, come for what she might believe to be the final showdown. Adria’s lips twisted upwards at the sight, daring her to try to interfere again after such an abysmal failure just minutes previously. There was something perhaps admirable in Morgan’s tenacity, but futile as well. She, three humans, and a Jaffa could not hope to stand against the might of the Ori. 

“Adria,” Vala stepped forward. “I’m sorry. I wish things could have been different.”

“Me too,” Adria replied sincerely, playing along as she waited for one of them to make the first move. They deserved to, if it was also going to be their last. 

“So, what are you gonna do?” her mother asked. “We’re obviously never gonna agree.” Vala took a step closer, her hand reaching out as if of half a mind to touch Adria’s arm before thinking better of it. “Are you gonna kill me now?” She stared at her mother, surprised by her candor. Movement caught her eye, and in an instant Teal’c was back against the wall, staff weapon he had been leveling at her clattering to the floor. 

With one glance back at Vala’s tense, expectant face, Adria knew it had all been a distraction. Daniel stood over the ark—when had he approached it in the first place? Damn her mother—desperation and then satisfaction sweeping over him as he pressed what she assumed to be the last in the unlocking sequence of symbols into the top of the ark. She was too late but she sent him to the floor as well. The few seconds this cost her allowed the Jaffa to pick up the staff weapon once more. She instinctually threw up a shield around herself, but he fired not at her, but at the leg of the table supporting the ark. It pitched forward towards the still-kneeling Doci. 

As if in slow motion, the edge of the ark hit the floor, momentum throwing open the lid. Vala leapt out of the way. Daniel shielded himself with his arms. 

The room remained silent. 

Morgan’s eyes bulged. 

Daniel slowly lowered his arms from over his head, staring at the inanimate box. He moved cautiously toward it and Adria let him, knowing what he would find. He gazed into it, and she took perverse pleasure in the way his spirit fell as his hopes were dashed. After a painful moment he tilted it to show Vala the blackened, gaping hole that had once been the engraved bottom of the ark. Her face slackened blankly as Daniel’s meaning coursed through her. 

"Did you really think I would just leave that lying around?" Adria laughed, grinning with her success. "The one weapon that could take away my power, and I leave my sworn enemy alone in the room with it. The tales of SG-1’s prowess prove disappointing. Do you always rely this greatly on luck when defeating your foe, or have your past adversaries just been that stupid?"

“So we’re sworn enemies now,” Vala ignored the insult, looking forlornly at Adria. 

“What did you think, best of friends? You renounce our familial relationship every time I see you, Vala.” She turned to the Doci. “I want full reports from the Priors currently attacking Odyssey. That ship should be obliterated by now.”

“Yes, Orici,” the Doci answered, closing his eyes. After a second he opened them. “The Earth ship escaped, Orici. They managed to jump to hyperspace before the attack was complete.”

With the sweet satisfaction of her most recent win still coursing through her, this latest setback did not faze Adria. “Tell every ship we have in this galaxy but my own to rally at the portal. The Odyssey will be headed back to Earth, and that’s the only way to get there.”

“As you say.” The Doci bowed his head before retreating back out of the room. 

Adria smiled slightly at her new captives. “Guards!” Five warriors came running, staff weapons in hand. “These are our prisoners. Bind and gag them and then have them brought onboard my flagship. Then inform the fleet  that we are leaving. Load up and prepare to take off.”

“Right away, Orici,” one of them replied. He kicked the staff weapon away from Teal’c before hauling him to his feet, even as another did the same to Tomin and two more grasped Vala and Daniel’s upper arms and roughly guided them out of the room. 

“What you are doing is evil, Adria.” Morgan le Fay rematerialized in the doorway. 

“No, it is the natural course of things,” the Orici replied. “You’ve failed yet again, Ganos Lal. Did you really think your Alteran infatuation with the sciences could stand up to Origin? Your arrogance is astounding.”

“And yet it looks like I am no longer the one afflicted by arrogance,” Morgan replied. “Let us hope it will do you just as great a service as it has done me.” She transformed once more into white light and disappeared.

Adria did not let the Alteran’s taunt perturb her. She smiled. 

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria goes up against the Odyssey, and takes in a few more members of SG-1.

The most annoying thing of all about this existence, Adria reflected, was the waiting. The mind-numbing state of not doing anything, not having anything to do, and not knowing when such a thing would come about so that she could begin _doing_. As she stood on the bridge of the warship, her eyes scanned the stars even as her mind reached out to sense their arrival. She would know immediately when they dropped out of hyperspace using only her ascended capabilities of course, but force of habit moved her eyes as well.

While she stood there, she was aware of the prostration going on decks below her, the meditation of the Prior as he guided the ship and coordinated with the five others surrounding the Supergate. She was vaguely aware of the movement occurring aboard her flagship, on its way to rendezvous with them, as well as the faint traces of Vala, Daniel, Teal’c, and Tomin aboard her ship. Her prisoners radiated a sense of fear—naturally—and the tiniest shred of hope. The hope was bothersome to Adria. It was a vexing trait of humanity, her least favorite by far. But they would eventually come to regret that innate fortitude, because Adria would have to work all the harder to rid them of it. The experience would not be pleasant for them.

The Odyssey appeared out of the purple haze of hyperspace and immediately split in two. The Supergate activated with a whoosh and Adria turned toward it, alarmed. How had they…? No, it did not matter. She returned her attention to the two ships. One banked left and one right, both flanking the Ori fleet. A beam of light shot out of one of her ships and narrowly missed the left Odyssey, which continued on its current heading.

"We did not detect any other ships arriving," the Prior said, gazing out at the space battle.

"Fire on both," Adria commanded. "And shut down the gate!"

"I cannot, Orici," he answered. "The portal is unresponsive to my direction."

Anger ignited within her. Adria reached out her mind towards one of the ships, empty space rushing by her with a feeling akin to the wind on her face before she arrived at her destination. Her frustration honed her mind to a sharp point, and it was with that point that she drove herself into the interior of that ship. Its form melted around her as if it didn’t exist at all—she could see through it, see that it contained not hundreds of lives but two. It was largely insubstantial. "Tell our ships to target the right!" she ordered. She did not know from where the people of Odyssey had gotten this technology, but it was not impervious to her all seeing eyes. More beams of light shot out towards the ship she had indicated—the _real_ Odyssey. Two missed, but the third was dissipated by their shields.

With the few seconds their subterfuge had cost the Ori fleet, the Odyssey disappeared through the Supergate. As it did, the other ship collapsed as well, its front half winking out first as the Odyssey hit the event horizon. Then both were gone, and a tiny speck spun around the vast width of the Supergate and headed for its depths. The Prior’s staff glowed aquamarine and the gate deactivated just as the tiny ship flew through. One of her warships moved around to the other side, shooting a beam at the birdlike ship, which tilted to try to evade it. The beam clipped its wing, and it slowed to a forward drift.

“Cease fire,” Adria ordered. “Have the enemy ship brought aboard my flagship.”

The Prior bowed his head respectfully. “Yes, Orici.” Her flagship dropped out of hyperspace a moment later, just as Adria had known it would. She disappeared from this warship, rematerializing on her own. She was curious exactly who was flying that tiny ship—it hadn’t exactly been a suicidal tactic, but as they surely saw now the plan certainly hadn’t favored the pilot’s survival—but the idea of waiting for the birdlike ship to be transported aboard was distasteful. Perhaps it was time to pay a visit to her prisoners, now that they’d had a little time to stew together. Yes, her time was much better spent with Vala, Daniel, Teal’c, and Tomin.

* * *

The punishment block was dark and dank, just as she liked it. Cells ran along both walls, about four by four feet each. There were no cell doors, but each prisoner was shackled at the ankles and wrists. The walls in between cells were by no means soundproof—the screams of others were always very useful interrogation techniques—but they could retract backwards should she wish for two to share a cell. Vala, Daniel, Teal’c, and Tomin had all been placed far away from each other at her direction.

Speaking of Vala… Her mother looked up as Adria approached the entrance to her cell, casting a reddish glow off the walls and floor. “What do you want?” Vala growled.

“For you to accept Origin in your heart and un-renounce yourself as my mother,” Adria replied unblinkingly.

Vala scoffed deep in her throat. "Fat chance of that."

"You can if you try," Adria admonished gently. "I believe in you."

"Your belief in me isn't the issue here," Vala replied. " _I_ don't believe in _you_ , and that's not going to change while you keep us captive here."

"Give it time," Adria smiled. "The Priors and I can be most persuasive. Assigning Tomin to teach you last time was a mistake; I see that now. You can rest assured that though I showed leniency on that occasion he will be punished for both that transgression and his most recent betrayal now."

Vala's brow tightened momentarily before relaxing again, eyes hardening. She continued as if Adria had not spoken. "And as for our blood relation, I carried you for nine months and I gave birth to you, and that is something that neither one of us can erase or deny—no matter how hard we try. But that's as far as it goes. I did not raise you, Adria, and nothing I did turned you into what you are now." Her face darkened. "Nothing I did ever could have turned you into what you are now."

Adria laughed lightly, spreading her arms. "A goddess?"

"A tyrant." Vala turned away as best she could, her wrists still shackled to the wall on each side.

"Think about it, Mother," Adria knelt down to get closer to Vala's huddled form. "If you accept Origin, you can live a long life free from pain. From anguish. From firing a weapon, or stealing to get what you want." The Orici waited for a moment, then stood to her full height once more. "I won't give up on you, Mother," she promised.

"Joy."

"Orici!" called one of her warriors from behind her. "We have the two from on board the small ship." Samantha Carter stared her down with fierce determination and the man standing behind her gazed upon Adria for the first time with a suitable amount of trepidation. Good. She'd hoped it would be one of the remaining members of SG-1 flying the suicide mission, and she was pleased that it was Carter. Listening to Mitchell's sass until the Priors could torture that behavior out of him was a… _tiring_ …prospect.

"Put her in the cell next to the Jaffa," Adria commanded. "And him somewhere more isolated."

She followed her warriors down to the end of the cell block where Teal'c was housed, watching as they pulled the boots off her feet and tore the SG jacket off her body, leaving her in cargo pants and a black tank top. They snapped the shackles on her wrists and ankles and then stepped back.

"Leave us," Adria said. When the warriors had left, she addressed Carter, who was staring up at her with loathing. "Hello, Colonel Carter. I would say it's nice to see you again, but seeing as you've managed to deliver me yet another setback, you can understand if I'm a little bit…aggravated."

"I'm sorry for you," Carter replied neutrally. Her blue eyes darted to the side, out of the cell, and past Adria, taking in her surroundings. Looking for a means of escape that didn't exist.

"Nevertheless, you can rest knowing the fact that your actions will in the end have no bearing on how Earth will be treated when we arrive. The consequences of your actions shall only be meted out on you and your friends whom I have already captured, not your entire people."

"Then they're alive?" The relief was palpable in the woman's eyes.

"Yes. You'll be hearing from them soon, although I'm not sure you'll like what you hear." Adria smiled slightly. "Pain is never a pleasant sound."

"So that's why you're keeping us alive? To torture us?"

"For information. If there's torture involved, you can be sure it was deserved."

"I won't tell you anything. Whatever you do to me—I won't."

Adria nodded. "Of that I'm well aware." She turned her gaze upon the grated steel wall to her left. Tongues of fire filled her eyes for a second, and she reached into the flow of energy to push the partition back into the interior of the ship. Carter's eyes widened as she beheld Teal'c seated on the floor in a crude imitation of his customary cross-legged pose, the best he could manage in identical cuffs. "He has been in a deep state of kelno'reem since he was brought aboard. I think it's high time naptime was over, don't you?" She extended one serene hand toward him and twitched her finger. A gash appeared across the Jaffa's left breast, about three inches long and a few millimeters deep. Teal'c grunted and his large body stiffened, though his eyes did not open. A singular bead of sweat collected just below his ear.

Carter gasped, shock suffusing her features. Conflicted anguish radiated off her in waves for her friend. "It’s crude, I know…but effective. How did you create the second Odyssey?" Adria asked, raising her hand again threateningly.

The colonel looked uncertainly at the Jaffa. "It's called a mirror field generator. It reflected the image of the real Odyssey onto a fixed location—in our case, the space around the F-302 we were flying. Major Marks was the pilot; I was in the back calibrating the device. The plan was to confuse the Ori ships long enough for the real Odyssey to make it through the Supergate, and we would swing around and follow through after."

"Why not just go through at the same time?"

"The technology is limited. When the Odyssey banked left, we had to bank right at exactly the same angle for the image not to be distorted."

"And you developed this technology?"

"Yes, at the SGC." The lie went up like a bright red flare in her mind's eye.

"Don't try to deceive me," Adria warned angrily. Another cut appeared in Teal'c's flesh, his upper arm this time. Scarlet blood trickled downward and the muscle in his arm jumped.

"It was developed by another race, called the Asgard, extinct now," Carter confessed. "They bequeathed their technology to us aboard the Odyssey in a new computer core." So that was the change that suddenly made the Odyssey detectable by her Priors.

"Thank you, Colonel," Adria smiled. "It took less convincing than I'd hoped to get the information I wanted out of you."

"Only because it won't do you any good," Carter spat. "You obliterated the wing of our F-302. The calibration devices on that side were completely destroyed. The generator is useless to you."

"I have no interest in your technology," Adria told her. "Technology is not the way of Origin. Which brings me to my next point—I suggest you spend your time in this cell figuring out exactly how you are useful to me. Otherwise, you'll serve as Teal'c does: interrogation incentive. And I highly doubt you'll last nearly as long as him. His resolve never to serve another of what he considers a 'false god' is the strongest I have ever encountered." Carter stared at her with unabashed loathing. "He would be a great leader for my warriors, but unfortunately he will never submit as he ought. That and his…other issues." She held out her hand, where a small gray device and several vials of blue liquid appeared. "I believe you call this tretonin?" She stepped a little closer to the woman, maintaining that small smile. It pleased her greatly to see the fear in Carter's eyes, to sense the way her thoughts were going a million miles a minute. Doing the calculations. Coming to the realization that with the current supply the Jaffa had less than two and a half weeks to live.

She gestured to Teal'c. "Next time tell me what I want to know more promptly, and maybe the bloodshed won't be necessary." Adria turned, stalking away from the cell. "It was fun, though. Until next time, Colonel Carter."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria's plans are rocked by a new revelation.

The abyss formerly housing the Flames of Enlightenment was as dark and empty as ever. The Doci stood near the edge, gazing into its murkiness with a sense of divine reverence. His lips moved infinitesimally, murmuring prayers and reciting passages from the Book of Origin. Adria idly wondered how often he did this—how often he spoke to beings no longer there to listen. Although she was unsure of how often they had actually listened even when they did inhabit this place, much less responded to any of their followers. Their attention had undoubtedly been turned to greater things, such as the war with the Alterans. Mortal events held no interest to them. That was why the Doci existed, of course—a mortal given gifts to oversee mortal matters and resolve mortal problems. 

Adria appeared before him in a plume of fire, still smug from her talk with Colonel Carter. "Orici," he bowed. 

"What is the status of our ships?"

"In this galaxy, they are mobilizing to depart. Through the portal, seven more are at your command. They have positioned themselves on the edge of the solar system of Earth, out of range of any primitive weapons fire."

"What of the Prior sent to Earth?"

"The unbelievers sent him back through the gate, Orici. He is back on our ship awaiting your orders."

"Was he able to ascertain the current population of the planet?" 

"It is seven billion."

"And in the rest of the Milky Way?"

"Two billion." The number hit her with a cold chill. Only nine billion more to convert? Never before had she considered that there would come a point when her crusade had finished, and certainly not that there would be a definite number of converts. That inexhaustible resource had been a staple in her plans. 

"Are you certain?" she demanded.

"Yes. Soon our crusade will be complete, and all will know the light of Origin."

"It cannot be," Adria spat. It wasn't possible. She wouldn't have enough energy to wipe out the Alterans unless she had every last one of those souls, and more than half of them lived on the planet of her greatest opposers. 

"What is wrong, Orici?" the Doci asked. "Was that not our goal?"

"The Ori are not happy," Adria said angrily. "This anti-Origin resistance movement that has taken root in our galaxy must be extinguished. That is to be your primary concern, Doci."

He dipped his head. "They shall burn."

"No. They shall see the light, or you will join them on the flames," Adria ordered. "I will rejoin the crusade in the Milky Way, which has suffered for my absence. I shall return when our mission is complete."

"As you say." The Doci accepted her statement without question—a good thing, or he would have ended up a pile of ashes on the smooth marble. Adria transported herself back to her flagship, reappearing in her chambers. 

"Orici," Feríca greeted her. 

"Tell Prior Vesuvius that we are departing at once for Earth," she commanded, and the girl bowed and retreated out the polished doors. Now alone, Adria considered her options with distaste. She could try to face the Alterans with what power she had once all the Milky Way but Earth had bowed down to her, but she was not certain it would be enough. She could try to conquer Earth, but that would risk them attacking anyway. It had long been their favorite, its civilization the closest to that of the Alterans prior to their ascension. 

Or she could preserve her power by retaking a human form. 

The idea hit her like a ton of bricks, her mind speeding through the calculations. She would not desecrate herself so fully as to truly become mortal again, but a human shell to inhabit would be an… _ acceptable _ …course of action. The Alterans would be less likely to interfere while Adria would get to keep her powers, conserving energy in the process. Then every soul on Earth would not be necessary, but just the majority—a much more manageable number. Before now she had not considered the amount of power consumed by her fiery, all-powerful, teleporting form. Fragile as human bodies were, they were incapable of housing an ascended being indefinitely without breaking down, but fashioning herself a new one every few days would still be more efficient. And it might do wonders for this awful boredom she was experiencing—although that could just as easily be remedied with some torture-heavy conversions or burnings-alive.

So she was decided then. Human. But that would have to wait until she was certain they were underway, and until she could properly introduce herself to Carter's pilot, the man from Earth who had not had the pleasure of her acquaintance yet. Nothing else could quite match the tone of a first encounter with a body of shimmering flames. 

The man had a lean build and short cropped sandy hair that Adria found traditional of Earth's military men. His flightsuit had an eagle insignia on the left side of the chest and deep creases from sitting cramped so long in the same position. Uncertainty came off him in waves, an emotion she had not felt from any of the members of SG-1 she kept in captivity. They all had some inkling, at least, of what to expect from her. This man did not, and the prospect was satisfying. 

"Do you know who I am, soldier?" the Orici asked, appearing before him. The sudden light in his otherwise dark cell blinded the man momentarily. 

He squinted at her, shying away from the flames that constituted her garments. "You're Adria."

Her lips curled into a thin smile. "That's right. What do you know of me?" 

"You're some sort of twisted daughter of Vala and the Ori,” he said. “You’re responsible for two deaths and more than a month's worth of damages on the  _ Odyssey _ from the last time you were onboard. Not to mention the probable millions you’ve slaughtered throughout the galaxy when they wouldn’t be brainwashed by your lies." The man's voice was snappish and resentful, but hidden underneath was a layer of that wonderful uncertainty.

Adria adopted a somber, sincere expression, choosing her words carefully as she took a tiny step closer to her prey. "I am not the cold-blooded killer you believe me to be,” she said softly. No, she was in fact rather hot-blooded—the glory of the Ori burned in her veins. “I do truly regret the needless loss of life aboard your ship,” she continued. “The time was very confusing for me, as you might understand. Having another being controlling your body, especially one as malevolent as Ba'al…" She let her sentence trail off. The man's guard had relaxed minutely during her staged heart-to-heart, and like a cat Adria smugly anticipated playing with her food before she ate it. "Were you close with either of them?"

He cleared his throat, as if startled by being asked to participate in the conversation instead of just act as a passive listener to her pleas for his understanding. "Um, no, I wasn't."

"Still, I regret the circumstances which ultimately caused their deaths," Adria continued, blinking demurely. She carefully took a seat at the edge of the cell, exaggerating every hesitant movement for its full effect. "I wish things could have turned out differently, that your opinion of me wouldn't already be colored by such events. SG-1 made up their minds about me long ago based on false assumptions and inferences, but I had hoped you would be more willing…" She paused. "…more willing to see me for who I really am."

"And who is that?" he asked carefully.

Adria swallowed. "A child." He looked at her, surprised. That was not what he expected her to say. Good. "I don't know if you know this, but I was born only two years ago. And from birth the demands of this crusade have been thrust upon me, an army and a religion all relying on me for direction. My benefactors did not speak with me, my mother openly scorned my existence, and those that raised me—the Priors—only quoted parables of scripture and expected me to deliver miracles. I never chose this life, but it was what was expected of me, from the moment I was born." She let out a hollow, derisive laugh. " _ The Orici _ . Bestowed with great gifts, but isolated from all others because of them. Lonely." She held out her hand, igniting a sphere of fire in her palm. "Do you see me now…" she glanced down at his uniform, "…Kevin Marks?" 

"I've never thought of it that way," Major Marks replied slowly. "But if you're not happy as the Orici, then make a different choice. Leave your fleet; find what will make you happy elsewhere."

Adria smiled sadly. "That's the most confusing part. Origin  _ is _ real—it's a real religion, with real gods and real rewards for its followers. The Ori, before they were destroyed…they truly wanted to help humanity. And yet on every world I visited, I was rejected, cast out, spit on, cursed… I tried so hard to pay my dues, but no one wanted to hear it. No one wanted to believe that the Ori were gods, that I was a goddess, and they took it out on me. The messenger." She looked away, brushing a hand across her dry cheek as if to wipe away a stray tear. "So I've…I've come down here, to you. Will you believe in me? I just…I just need someone to believe."

"I believe you might have the powers and abilities of a god," Marks said slowly, keeping his blue eyes trained on Adria. "But I won't worship you." Confusion flooded her. "Any god I kneel to is going to be much more benevolent than you, Orici. You can't blame everything on the way you came into existence, the way you were brought up. You’ve made your own choices." His steely gaze bore into her own. "For the evil you've done, you don't deserve a single bended knee." The words were harsh, inflaming Adria to the point of smiting him down then and there. She had thought she was making some progress, but the cockroach in chains before her remained unswayed. 

"It's a good thing I don't have them kneel," she spat, rising to her feet in fury. She extended a clawed hand at him. The chains binding his hands to the wall snapped under the force of her will, which she then directed at his form. They stood at a standstill for a moment, his face red and contorted with effort, her features taut and determined. Then his spine began to bend, until he was prostrated on the floor of his cell. The chains melded back together to hold him in his new position, one that Adria hoped would remind him of his utter inconsequence in the tapestry of the universe and events that were soon to unfold. He was merely cannon fodder, like so many others, for a war far beyond humanity’s limited comprehension. 

The Orici strode away through the punishment block towards the ring transport, still fuming. She thundered right past Daniel, who was dozing in his cell. She passed Carter and Teal'c, the astrophysicist counting the cracks in the walls while the Jaffa held strong to his kelno'reem. She passed Vala, who stared her down as she passed with an expression Adria didn't even want to identify. 

Marks had gotten under her skin, although why she wasn't quite certain. Perhaps it was the stubborn obstinance characteristic of his homeworld that had disrupted her normal calm, reminding her of just how gnarly converting Earth could turn out to be. Perhaps it wasn't him at all; he was just the tip of the iceberg in the gradual, infuriating shift in her plans: the destruction of the Ori, her own premature ascension, the newfound limit on the amount of power she would be able to draw from the Milky Way, and now the necessity of returning to human form. 

The ring platform activated with a flick of her thoughts and she reappeared in a burst of white light on the deck of her flagship. Prior Vesuvius turned slowly toward her, bowing. His staff was glowing blue, and almost immediately he returned his gaze back out to the stars. 

"Has the course been set for Earth?" Adria questioned, joining him at the bow. 

"Yes, Orici. We shall arrive in eight days."

"Send word ahead that they are to continue the conversion of worlds and abandon their posts at the edge of Earth's solar system. Earth shall receive the blessings of Origin last, for all the resistance they have put forth against us."

"As you say."

"When we near a life-sustaining planet, park the flagship and have a temporary ring platform built on its surface. One with high levels of oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and calcium."

"May I ask why we are pausing on our holy crusade, Orici?"

"Because I wish to retake human form, and I would prefer to do so on a planet."

"Why, Orici?"

"I believe that form will allow me to better connect with the population of Earth.” Her eyes flashed. “Do not put such questions to me again, Vesuvius!" 

The Prior inclined his head and returned his gaze to the vastness of space. He closed his eyes and his staff glowed even brighter. With her mind's eye Adria could see the thin ribbon of connection that flowed outward to all the other Milky Way staffs. By the time he finished and the light faded away, Adria had already left.

* * *

 

The planet Vesuvius had selected was nearing sunset when the ring platform activated nearly a full day later, its sky lit up in shades of orange and pink. The spot he had chosen was wisely on the opposite side of the planet from the gate, in the middle of a large plain. Because of its distance from the Stargate, the native peoples were nowhere nearby to witness her transformation. 

Drawing forth the collective knowledge of the Ori into her mind, she fixed the image of a human body in her head. Taking a few steps away from the rings, she planted both feet in the ground firmly and cast out her hands, palms downward, over the dirt. The ground shook beneath her and the dirt began to bubble slowly like molten lava. Swirls of dust spiraled upwards towards her hands as she drew the basic elements from the soil. Grasses withered, died, and broke down in a wide circle around her, their atoms adding to the mass of molecules Adria had now gathered. 

Adria closed her eyes as she manipulated the elements into cells—sequencing DNA, synthesizing proteins, forming tiny organelles—before they coalesced into a body. The skeleton came first, then the lean musculature, the blood vessels, the tiny nerves threading their way through everything, a coat of creamy, unblemished skin to cover it all. An advanced, streamlined brain to house her conscious mind and all the Ori knowledge it could hold, silky ebony hair, and her trademark amber eyes. She spent the most time on them, getting the color exactly right. It was the first feature humans would notice, the one that immediately separated her from the riffraff. For them, she would settle for nothing less than perfect. 

When she was finished, she lowered her outstretched arms and opened her eyes. The human that she had seen in her mind’s eye now lay before her in the flesh—a human the Orici recognized as herself, Adria. The human stared blankly into the sky, a shell without a consciousness. Adria approached the body slowly, kneeling down by her side. As she reached out one glowing hand, it turned to pure red energy flowing into the fingertips of the human shell. The final wisp of the Orici’s celestial form was sucked inside.

Then she was staring up at the darkening sky. Her fingers and the tips of her toes tingled with sensation. The musty smell of the earth permeated her nose, the warmth and prickliness of the dirt pressing into her back. A light breeze whisked across her face, setting her nerves alight. 

She had forgotten what it felt like to feel. 

With a flick of her thoughts the dust that clung to her fell to the ground and she sat up, marveling at the experience of once again having muscles slide beneath her skin. Her heart beat in a steady rhythm, sending blood in pulses to every part of her body. She could taste an earthy sweetness on her tongue that she couldn’t before, could feel the dirt and then the grass beneath her feet as she walked out of the circle of deadness. 

The ring platform activated, transporting her back up to the ship. Adria donned her black dress and cloak and swept her hair up from her shoulders, pinning it at the back of her head. Being an ascended had had the grandeur, but being human had the sensations. She slipped on her high black boots, delighting in the tightness of the obsidian leather. She reveled in the bite of pain when she allowed a flame from one of the room’s holders to dance across her palm. 

Adria then strode confidently out the doors to her chambers towards the bridge of the flagship, cloak billowing outwards in her wake. 

She had forgotten what it felt like to be  _ alive _ .    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just finished writing this story, so new chapters will be posted every few days from now on. The Holy War continues.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria has a little chat with Daniel.

Adria was standing in the cool waters of Celestis. Calm waves lapped at her ankles, tickling her nerves. It was nighttime, and the unpolluted sky was slight with the white specks of thousands of stars. "Orici," a deep, directionless voice said. "Your work has pleased us greatly."

"Who are you?" the Orici demanded. The stars above her began to shimmer until they were cascading in a giant waterfall of light onto Celestis. Wispy ribbons of pearl coalesced into human form, a veritable army materializing in front of her, though these were no warriors. 

"We're your parents, Orici," the man directly in front of her said. "You have done well, but there is still far to go. We're here to make that easier on you." He gestured to his side, and Adria looked to her right. Vala was there, done up in glowing chains and bleeding from a large cut on her forehead. "We're your  _ real _ parents, Orici," he assured her. "She is no longer necessary, like that preposterous name she gave you. We will rid you of her, and then we may better continue your crusade. Together." His dark eyes glittered.

"Is that really necessary?" Adria asked, shifting to one side. 

"It is." A giant gash was rent in the earth and Vala fell through the red gaping hole, like the mouth of some colossal creature swallowing her up. Adria ran to the edge just in time to see her mother's body sinking into the lava below. 

"Don't tell us you  _ feel _ for her," the man approached her from behind. "She was an incubation vessel, nothing more. Now, onto your crusade…"

The Orici woke with a start. She threw the covers off herself reflexively, leaping to her feet and beginning to pace the room as she waited for her rapid heartbeat to calm. The dreams, she had forgotten about the dreams to which humans were susceptible. It was nonsensical, of course, as most human things were—the Ori were gone, Vala most certainly had not fallen into a pool of molten rock. But it had felt real, and Adria did not like being tricked, least of all by her own mind. She must exert an iron will to prevent occurrences such as this in the future, because she was not human. Being housed in the body of one was no excuse for being made a fool of as she slept, no excuse for not being in complete control over her own faculties. 

Adria resolved to do better. 

Feríca entered a few moments later, saying, "Orici, are you all right?" The girl's hair was mussed from sleep, but she bowed upon the sight of Adria.

"I'm fine," she replied. 

"Is there anything you require?"

"Not at the moment," Adria said. Feríca bowed again and retreated back into her quarters, separated from Adria's by only a crimson velvet curtain. She was at the Orici's beck and call, but more often she didn't even have to say a word before the girl appeared—Adria could rule Earth in a matter of minutes if her troops maintained that kind of dedication. 

Adria dressed quickly and headed out into the main hallway of the ship, her mind still disquieted. The corridor was dim, quiet, and half-lit, and her soft footsteps pounded like drums against the stone floor. Everyone was in bed except for the few guards that lined the walls, one on each side every hundred feet in full armor, staffs held straight and ready. They weren't really necessary, Adria supposed as she walked by the first one—it was impossible to sneak aboard her ship as they traveled through space faster than the speed of light—but appearances mattered as well. She stopped suddenly, eyes narrowing, and took a step backward to stand in front of one of the guards. Through the slits of his helmet, she could see his eyes were closed. The Orici considered for a moment, then cast out her hand toward the bottom of his cloak, lighting a small fire at the hem. The flames began to lick hungrily further up the fabric, heat pervading the chilly air of the ship. 

Adria walked on. 

Vesuvius stood alone on the deck of the ship, staring outward into the stars. "Orici," he said, "you are human once again."

"Housed in a human body," Adria corrected. "Do not make that mistake again, Prior."

He inclined his head. "What can I do for you, Orici?"

"Did you track down Ba'al's ship after the people of Earth abducted me?"

"We did. Your warriors searched the mothership for you, but they found only an empty cage and the System Lord's dead body."

"Did you recover my pendant?" Adria demanded. "I wish to wear it again, now that I am reliant on flesh and blood once more."

"Yes." Out of the folds of his robe he produced the shard of Celestis, its leather cord hanging limply from his pasty hand. Adria took it and lifted it so that the pendant dangled before her eyes. The stone seemed paler than usual, but perhaps that was due to prolonged disconnection with the Orici, its power source. She slipped it over her head, settling it in the center of her chest so that the cool gem was touching her skin. 

It was where it belonged, and she could finally put everything that happened with Ba’al behind her. 

 

* * *

“Hallowed are the Ori,” Prior Avernix greeted her as she stepped off the platform. 

“Hallowed are the Ori,” Adria repeated back. “Prior Vesuvius put you in charge of the prisoners?”

“Yes, Orici. Does that displease you?”

“Not at all,” Adria replied. “You are one of the most talented, and these will be the most obstinate targets you are ever likely to have. Back on Celestis, the one in charge of the cells there proved to be woefully incompetent.”

“Already I have seen that,” Avernix gave a slight incline of his head. “The Jaffa is hardest of all to affect because of his sleep-state, but beyond him the one who calls himself Daniel Jackson.”

“Keep trying,” Adria instructed. “Daniel was a Prior himself once, so he may retain some residual barrier to the probing.”

“It is not that, Orici,” Avernix said. “He was once ascended.”

“Is that so?” Adria asked testily, absorbing this new piece of information. Daniel, an Alteran? No wonder he was so attached. 

“Indeed. I believe his story is like that of Rasib, as it is written in the Book of Origin. He lived in the light of Origin for most of his life, but when it came time for him to ascend, he became greedy and desired more than his share of the eternal bliss. The rest of the Ori discovered this and banished him from the afterlife to live among doomed heathens such as himself.”

“That is none of your concern now,” Adria replied brusquely. He was speaking nonsense, of course—nothing in the Book of Origin had actually happened, but sometimes she forgot how much her most devout followers adhered to it. “Leave us. I wish to speak to Daniel alone. Return only when it is time for their next dose.”

He dipped his head respectfully. “Orici.” 

Once the Prior had disappeared in a flash of white light, Adria continued on her way. She passed Teal’c—she would have to do something about his unacceptable state of kelno’reem soon—and then Carter, who appeared to be asleep, albeit fitfully. 

"You're human," Daniel said as soon as she stopped in front of his cell. Grime had begun to coat his hands and clothing and his hair was somewhat slicked with sweat. His blue eyes, however, were as bright and piercing as ever. He looked down, as if speaking to himself, his voice dropping to a whisper, "You're human."

Why did everyone keep commenting on that? Adria thought exasperatedly. It was growing tiresome, their constant fixation on her state of being. The Orici did what she wanted when she wanted and by whichever means she wished. It was not for a Prior or Daniel Jackson to question. 

Daniel refocused on her again. "Why?"

"I did not come to talk about me," Adria snapped. "Obviously the Priors have not been doing their job well enough, for you to maintain so much insolence. I shall inform them to heighten the intensity of your agony."

"Won't work," Daniel said, mouth twisting. He tapped the floor with his thumb. "I figured out a trick. Know what it is?" He paused. "Trick is to concentrate on one truth in your mind, keep repeating it over and over, over and over until you feel like you're going crazy. But when that…that  _ noise _ stops, you're still you."

"You may maintain that you are unaffected by the Priors as much as you desire, Daniel," Adria told him. "I am unconcerned with your bluff. What I want from you is information."

"You want to know what truth I focused on?" Daniel asked, ignoring her. "This:  _ we will defeat you _ ."

Adria's eyes narrowed, anger igniting her veins. Her posture stiffened. "Colonel Carter is a mere twenty paces from here. Perhaps you would like me to pay her a visit instead? I'll still get my information, but with her I won't be asking as nicely as I am you…"

Daniel sighed. "If you could get information out of Carter, you would have already. She has way more knowledge of the defensive capabilities of Earth, as I'm sure you want to know, than I do. But she’s military, and she would never betray Earth."

"Or perhaps I should offer a shot of tretonin for Teal'c? I am told that the Jaffa does not look well."

"He’s faking," Daniel said matter-of-factly with a hint of contempt. "As I was saying…you're human. Back at the city, you were ascended, walking around as a column of flames. So either that was a facade, or—"

"And what of Vala?"

"You wouldn't hurt her. She's your mother."

"She also tried to kill me aboard the  _ Odyssey _ . There is no more relation between us than there is between you and I." She had hit a weak spot, and Adria dug in with satisfaction. "I will get the information I seek, whether you cooperate or not. Your actions from here on out can only cause her pain, Daniel. Do you want to hear her screams echoing off these walls? Do you want to hear them and know that she is all alone in a hard, dark cell experiencing agony the likes of which she has never known? Do you want to hear her pain and know that you are the cause, that you could have saved her from it but refused to do so out of spite?" 

"Fine," the man ground out. "But it'll be a trade. You answer one of my questions, I'll answer one of yours."

"You are in no position to bargain. Tell me of the ruler of Earth."

"There is no ruler," Daniel said, eyebrows furrowing. 

"Anarchy is highly inefficient," Adria scoffed, "but it shall only make Earth more susceptible to Origin. 

"There are almost two hundred different countries on Earth, each with their own form of government."

"How chaotic. Organized anarchy, then."

"Diverse," Daniel countered. "And that's why your crusade will fail—people on Earth value their individuality too much."

"But I suppose most would value their lives more?" Adria smirked. "You seem to think I plan on giving them a choice, Daniel. Obviously you don't know me very well."

"No, and I don't want to," he muttered darkly. 

"Regardless, you and I will be spending much time together over the next few days," Adria promised. 

"Then can you release my hands?" Daniel asked, lifting them to the limits of the shackles. Her lips curved upwards in response and she gave him an amused look. "Oh, come on, what am I going to do, attack you? I'm no more of a threat to you with your Celestis pendant than I was when you were ascended and throwing me across the room."

"I like you as you are," Adria replied. "Now, who will attempt to greet me when I arrive?"

"If I were at the con, you'd be greeted by our entire nuclear arsenal as soon as you entered the solar system, but…"

"Nuclear," Adria repeated, eyes narrowing. "These are your most advanced explosives. They cause massive radiation exposure, yes?"

"Speaking of radiation," Daniel interrupted, "how exactly are you human again? Did you actually retake human form, or did you somehow find a way to house an ascended consciousness in a human body and bypass the radiation issues?"

She smacked him across the face, producing a highly satisfying sound and tingling sensation in her hand. He blinked, cheek rapidly blossoming pink and a droplet of blood pooled at the corner of his mouth. "What did I say about your tiresome questions, Daniel?"

"I think you did it because the Ancients wouldn't allow you back in the Milky Way as an ascended." Daniel spat a globule of blood out onto the stone floor. "That means you're not yet powerful enough to defeat them. And based on the progress of your crusade when the  _ Odyssey _ left for Dakara, I'm betting there isn't much left in the galaxy to convert. You can't risk pissing them off until you've got enough energy to take them on, and that means converting Earth. You can't threaten the lives of the people of Earth, you need them." Adria stared at him. He was much more intelligent than she'd previously given him credit for, to come to as close a conclusion as that. 

"So what if what you say is true?" The Orici smiled. "I have no need to keep secrets from you, Daniel Jackson. This changes your position  _ nothing _ . You are still aboard my ship, you are still my prisoner, and we are still headed to Earth."

"It means I have a goal while I'm sitting here," Daniel smiled, desperately triumphant. "I know they can hear me—I'm sure she, at least, is listening. All I have to do is convince Morgan and the rest of the Ancients to stop you before it's too late, before you convert so many that they'll lose the war."

"They'll never listen," Adria promised. "They're blinded by their own self-righteousness. They won't break their own laws for fear of becoming like the Ori themselves."

"We'll see," Daniel challenged. 

"You are a fool," Adria spat. "Guards!" Two of her warriors came running. "Unchain Vala and take her to the rings."

"What are you doing?" Delicious fear had permeated Daniel's voice and eyes once again. "What are you going to do to her?"

"I informed you of the consequences of your insolence when we began, Daniel," Adria replied loftily. "You chose not to listen. You chose to defy me." The Orici stalked from his cell, motioning for the guards, who had just finished undoing the chains, to come her way. Vala's hair was disheveled and lank and her mother shuffled forward with dragging feet, whether as a form of feeble resistance or because of the scrunched position she had been forced into for so long. Vala's eyes were slightly bloodshot—clearly the Prior's method of torture had had much more of an affect on her than it had Daniel. 

Adria caused them to slow in front of Daniel's cell, ostensibly because of the narrow space with the Orici partially blocking their way, but serving to parade her by him as well, to have Daniel take in her frail form. Just as she was about to follow, Daniel growled, "Wait." She paused, smirking to herself in the semi-darkness before turning back around to face him and receive his inevitable repentance. Her mind subconsciously set up a barrier in front of the guards to halt them where they stood, just beyond the visibility of her prisoner. "You won't torture her," Daniel said. "If you were going to do that, you would be doing that down here, where I could…how did you put it? Hear her screams." His face hardened. "You just want me to think you are."

Adria stared at him coldly for a moment, then snapped her hand out so quickly that a bone in her wrist gave a small pop. A metal rod full of  light blue liquid from the opposite wall of the punishment block zoomed into her hand and she twirled it once, quickly, by her side before grasping it tightly. Power flowed from her into the rod and it began to glow, first a dull cherry red and then white hot. She lunged forward, grabbing her mother’s arm to pull her partially into view and pressing the metal to her mother's abdomen. 

Vala's screams echoed across the punishment block. There was a momentary twinge of guilt in Adria's gut, but it was just that—momentary. No longer would no one take her seriously, no longer would anyone question her orders or fall asleep on watch. They would see how dedicated she was. Adria was willing to do anything to further her cause, and they all would know it. 

She retracted her arm after a few seconds, leaving only the stench of singed fabric and sizzled flesh lingering in the air. The heat slowly died from the rod in her hand.

Adria forced herself to look at Vala expressionlessly as her mother doubled over and fell to one knee, breaths coming in gasps. She waved for the guards to continue taking her away before turning back to Daniel's stricken face. "You underestimated me again," Adria stated calmly. By force of will she kept her voice icy and fluid. "I do intend to torture Vala, but I do not intend to kill her for a long while yet. On the above deck is a place useful for prolonging pain without fear of accidentally going too far and killing our prisoners." Her lips twisted into some perverted form of a smile. "But I do hope you enjoyed your demonstration. That will leave a  _ nasty _ scar for her to remember you by."

Daniel said nothing, only glared at her. 

Adria left, carelessly casting the metal rod out behind her. She had no more need of it. The Orici caught up with her guards just as they reached the ring platform, and she commanded them all into the circle before activating them with her mind. The two guards, who were now supporting Vala more than dragging her, appeared surprised as they suddenly stepped into the opulence of Adria's personal chambers. "Put her there," Adria ordered, pointing to the bedspread. "Leave us." The warriors hurried to comply, leaving Adria and Vala alone. Feríca arrived with a sweep of the curtain, taking in the sight of the bedraggled, wounded Mother of the Orici uncertainly. "Run a bath," Adria told her without turning around. "Then inform the nearest soldiers that I shall be needing another bed erected in here, over there." She indicated the mostly-empty room branching off of hers with a wave of her hand. The girl hurriedly did as ordered. 

"I'm sorry it had to come to that, Mother," Adria said as soon as they were alone. "Daniel forced my hand."

"Yeah, right," Vala bit out. Her hands found their way to her stomach and she pressed on either side of the seared flesh. 

"Here, let me," Adria said, stepping forward, but her mother pushed her away. 

"No! No, you don't get to do that, Adria, inflict pain and then heal it and pretend everything's okay. Because it's not!"

"Mother, you're being hysterical," she admonished. "Really, let me. It's only a flesh wound, easily healed. It'll take practically no energy at all—"

"Adria! I said no," Vala said sharply, her arms thrown up as if to protect herself.

"Don't be silly, Mother." Adria's eyes were already closed as she concentrated, sending a ribbon of energy towards Vala's wound. It closed up over itself and she opened her eyes with a satisfied smile. Vala glowered at her. "There," Adria smiled. "It's just like when I was born. I healed you then too."

"Except back then I didn't know how much of a power-hungry egomaniac you were going to grow up to be," Vala muttered. 

"Come, the bathwater is most likely ready," Adria said. "You can get the grime off you. It'll feel good." She snaked a tendril of power around the small metal chain linking the cuffs of Vala's hand, applying a slight forward pressure as an incentive to follow her into the washroom.

Her mother stared at the tub with distaste. She tested the water with an outstretched finger. "It's cold."

Adria laughed lightly. "On Earth, do they bathe in hot water?"

"Well, yes."

"They certainly did not do that on Meridian. Have you forgotten your roots?" Adria asked, a knowing smile all over her face. "I would like to hear more of Meridian, Mother. I would like to know where you came from."

"Don't even try, Adria," Vala snapped. "You don't care where I came from, you just want to get closer to me so that I'll join your misguided crusade. You think there’s still a chance after everything you’ve done to me." 

"You're not yourself right now," Adria said, maintaining the pleasant curvature of her lips with some difficulty. "We'll speak again when you're feeling better, after you're clean." She cast a hand over the tub, heating the water until steam began to rise from it  in wisps. "I'm afraid the remains of your SG-1 clothes were ruined by the rod, but I'll have Feríca find you something to wear—something much more fitting now that you're on the main levels of the ship. I’ll await your company.” Adria left the washroom, shutting and locking the door behind her. 

Feríca bowed upon seeing her. “The warriors are coming with the bed now, Orici. Shall I have it done up in the same way as yours?”

“Yes. You will serve her now, as well—except per my explicit instructions, you will do as she says. You are not to release her bindings, or allow her to help or contact anyone else aboard this ship, especially the prisoners, but food, water—attend to her basic needs as you would me. Find some of her old clothing from when she was last on board and have it laid out for her. Don’t unlock the bathroom until I return. I have some other business to attend to in the meantime.”

“Yes, Orici.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria gives Vala lessons in all the ways of Origin.

Adria dropped the blood-soaked garment in front of him with her forefinger, savoring the sweet anguish that filled his mind as it made the desired connection. At once he was straining against his shackles. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Only what you forced me to, Daniel," she reminded him gently. "Now, are you ready to cooperate more fully?"

"I want to see her," he growled. " _ Now _ ."

She tutted. "Did we learn nothing from last time? From what I know of human physiology, her body can't take much more…and I know everything."

"Please."

Adria's eyes glinted. Victory. "First tell me what I want to know."

Daniel stared at the ground for a moment. "You asked last time how Earth would greet you… Well, I'm not sure. All of this is unprecedented, but I believe they would try to make first contact before sending up explosives. See what you wanted. Try to protect the public from the truth as long as possible."

"That is absurd," Adria stated. "Would they not want as much public support as possible, so that they may raise an army against me?"

"That's not how Earth works," Daniel sighed. "The Stargate program has been the United States' biggest secret for a decade. Releasing the details…it would mean chaos. Releasing them now, with an imminent threat to the planet…governments might be overthrown. People would blame that government for getting them into this in the first place."

"Well, I really have you to thank for that, don't I?” Adria asked coyly. “If you hadn't been gallivanting around the Milky Way using the Stargate you never would have been sent to the Ori galaxy, and they never would have known of your existence. In fact, I have you to thank for my creation at all."

"So do I get to cash that in for something, or…?"

She gave him an indulgent smile. "Perhaps at a later date." Adria returned to business. "Tell me of the false gods of Earth. I would like to know my competition."

"There're many religions," he informed her. 

She sighed. "Organized anarchy, multiple sets of religious beliefs… Does nothing unite the people of Earth?"

"Resisting you might." Adria nearly slapped him again until she sensed that he was being completely truthful. 

"Then it shall be good practice for them for when I shall unite them all under my rule," Adria replied. "But I can see that this will soon become tiresome. I shall have a scribe sent in to you, and you will detail for them everything you know of these religions. And keep in mind that any falsehoods you submit shall result in Vala being punished appropriately."

"I get it," Daniel growled. 

"Good," the Orici smiled, turning and leaving his cell. She relayed her orders to the guards at the end of the row, and one of them went above decks to fetch a scribe and another followed her to Tomin's cell. 

"Hello, Tomin," Adria greeted him. "You must've thought I had forgotten about you in all of this."

The man, pale and haggard, looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. "I was hoping you had."

"I have a job for you," Adria told him. "One you're rather familiar with already, in fact."

"What is it?" Tomin asked cautiously. The naked fear in his eyes was lovely. 

"It's a third chance, really. Your final one. I wish you to indoctrinate my mother." Tomin's posture relaxed. "But I will oversee you directly this time, so that no mistakes like those previous will be made." She motioned for the guards to undo his chains. "If she is receptive and you are on task, you will be placed—under lock and key, of course—in your old quarters. If not, you shall be returned here when your sessions are over. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Adria," Tomin said. She narrowed her eyes. 

"Try again."

"Yes, Orici."

"Better. Get yourself cleaned up, and come to my chambers within the hour."

"Yes, Orici."

 

* * *

When Tomin arrived, Adria did not miss the look of utter relief that suffused Vala’s face. “You’re alive!” she said, rising at once from her slouched position across the bed. The shackles prevented her from hugging him, but had they been nonexistent Adria guessed she would have, if only in the joy of seeing a familiar face. 

“I am, and I’m glad to see you,” Tomin told her. 

He looked to Adria. “Orici,” he nodded respectfully. 

“Wait a minute,” Vala said suddenly, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What are you doing here, Tomin? Why aren’t you being held prisoner, like the rest of us?”

Tomin avoided her gaze. “You might like to know: Daniel, Colonel Carter, and Teal’c are all right as well.” 

“Tomin, that is not what we agreed you were here for,” Adria’s eyes flashed dangerously, and the fire along the walls heightened momentarily.

“My apologies, Orici, but if she is to believe in the goodness of Origin, we cannot torture her with uncertainties.” Tomin brought the large tome he was holding up to Vala’s eye level. “This is what I’m here for, Vala.”

She groaned, throwing herself back on the bed dramatically, raven hair splaying out over the pillow. “Not this  _ again _ .”

“Well, obviously it didn’t work the first time,  _ Mother _ ,” Adria admonished. “We have even brought you a revised childrens’ version, for three and four-year-olds. It has pictures.”

“That’s rather degrading,” Vala humphed. Her head snapped upward. “And how did you know about…?”

“I know many things about you. One day I will know them all,” Adria promised. She waved her hand, gesturing for Tomin to proceed. The man gingerly got up onto the tall bed with Vala, placing the Book of Origin down in front of them both. He opened the front cover under Adria’s watchful eye. 

“So this is the beginning of time,” Tomin began haltingly, pointing to the first page. “The Ori found us living in caves and hovels, and they took pity on humankind. They offered—”

“Like you mean it,” Adria said.

“ — they offered Enlightenment for those who believed in them,” Tomin continued with visible effort. “They caused the crops to grow well enough for humans to make villages and eradicated many awful plagues from the land.” 

“You can just stop trying, Tomin, I’m not listening,” Vala said, rolling her eyes as if to prove it. 

“Vala, can’t you see I’m only trying to help you?” Tomin asked, looking at her for the first time since he had started reading. 

“Seeing as you’re indoctrinating me to lies that make a psychotic ascended being with an overbearing god complex even more powerful, I really don’t, no,” Vala replied sharply. 

"Would you prefer to be in the punishment block?" he hissed. His eyes darted back to Adria almost not of his own accord, and she offered him nothing but a dangerous, expectant look. Vala’s reaction to his words was immediate and instinctive as she drew her legs further into herself and her hands clenched momentarily on the bedspread. Tomin took that as her answer, urging, “Then read!” He pushed the book in front of her, forcing it into her line of vision. "Learn Origin, and then she’ll have no reason to harm either of us!" 

"You know I won’t adopt a self-serving set of lies as my religion," Vala scoffed. “I might as well be held hostage by Qetesh all over again.”

"Even false gods may yet save lives, Vala," Tomin reasoned.

“You really believe she’d let us both live if I accepted this nonsense?” Vala demanded. “You’re no better than they are, Tomin—you know better, but you still fall begging at her feet for scraps of mercy. It’s not me that’s blind; it’s you. You can’t see just how utterly twisted she is. She doesn’t need a  _ reason  _ to torture us. It’s fun for her—pleasure. There’s no reasoning with someone like—”

"Enough!" snapped Adria, and the Book of Origin inadvertently slammed shut with the force of her voice. Standing five feet away from him in the center of her chambers, she thrust outwards with her power and wrenched Tomin’s chin upwards toward the ceiling. His eyeballs struggled in their sockets to look at her—at first with panic, then pleadingly—and blood began to flow from his mouth from the way his jaw had snapped closed over the tip of his tongue. "I am Origin!” Adria spat, eyes ablaze. “And I assure you, I am very real." A small involuntary whimper slipped out of Tomin—later Adria would consider it to be a whimper of agreement—and she snapped her fingers, throwing Vala back into a sitting position against the pillows. The Book of Origin rose up into the air and dropped heavily into her mother’s lap, causing Vala to wince in pain. “Read,” Adria said venomously. She flicked her hand, sending Tomin sprawling to the floor, chin released. 

"Orici, please," Tomin murmured weakly. "I meant no disrespect. Please let me—let us—"

"Save it, Tomin!," Adria said. “Or I shall snap your jaw fully the next time, and the damage will be irreparable.” A flare of satisfaction arose within Adria—despite Vala’s harsh chastising, it seemed her mother’s post-marital hold on him was nothing compared with Adria’s own influence. And pain. She held to the belief that the greatest motivators of humans were pain—blinding, mind-numbing, and all-consuming—and devotion, like that of her warriors. It pleased her to see her opinion substantiated yet again. 

“Stop it, Adria,” Vala said. “You know you need him, so stop putting on a show.”

“And why exactly do I need him?”

“He has to translate. I don’t read Ancient,” Vala told her. The words struck Adria like a blow. 

“You don’t?”

“Do I wear funny-looking glasses and get all excited when there’s some really old stuff to study? No, of course not. I like adventure, not sitting with some musty old scrolls and tablets.”

“You must learn then,” Adria decided. “I was not aware your education was so lacking, Mother. We shall correct it, starting immediately. The first sentence reads, ‘In the beginning, humankind lived in the dark of night like savages, until the light of Origin was bestowed upon them.’ That first symbol, ‘beginning,’ the third, ‘dark,’ the one with the extra thickness on the bottom, ‘humans,’ and the two brackets is ‘Origin.’” 

“Yeah, school never really was my forte…” Vala began. 

“The next sentence?” Adria asked, ignoring her.

“Uh…I recognize ‘Origin,’” Vala said. “Oh, no, wait, that symbol has a little dot in the center and this one doesn’t. I have no clue what it says.”

“‘On the day the Ori came, they took pity on them, and granted those who would believe a place in their own eternal realm,’” Adria told her patiently. “‘Ori’ looks very much like ‘Origin.’ ‘Light’ is just the symbol for its opposite, ‘darkness,’ inverted. Now, say it all together using the symbols you just learned to aid you.”

“At the beginning, humans lived in the darkness like savages, until the light of the Ori—”

“Of Origin,” Adria corrected. 

“—of Origin was given to them. The Ori came and took pity on them, and gave eternal life in their realm to those who would believe."

“Close enough,” Adria humored her. “Continue.”

Her mother looked down at the book once more before returning her gaze to the Orici. "Adria, my hand?" she asked, lifting it.

"Mother?" The Orici lifted an eyebrow.

"How am I supposed to flip the pages if I'm all chained up?" Vala appeared much calmer now, despite the fact that her former lover was still dripping blood onto the floor beside them. 

"Tomin will do it for you." Adria turned to him, her voice dropping to low and venomous for the first time in several minutes. "Won't you, Tomin? Surely you're good for something, as Vala claims?"

"Yes, Orici," Tomin uttered thickly. He gingerly pushed himself upwards onto his forearms, slowly getting to his feet. He ducked his gaze, shuffling towards Vala.

“I suggest you avoid sullying the bed,” Adria said, her tone of voice making it clear that it wasn’t a suggestion. 

"Come, Adria, don't make me feel like a complete invalid,” Vala petitioned. “Just the one hand."

"Fine," she relented after a moment, pressing upon the locking mechanism with her mind until it snapped open. “As long as you continue to make progress, you may have the one hand. Tomin, you are to aid with the translation. I trust you know the Book by heart already?”

There was only one answer to that. “Yes, Orici.”

“Good. Continue with the lesson verbatim.” 

"Yes, Orici."

 

* * *

"We have arrived over Katlinda," Prior Vesuvius informed her. "How many battalions shall I deploy?"

"The usual number," Adria said. "Has there been any further communication from the portion of the fleet near Earth?"

"None of importance. Earth does not seem to have detected them yet, or if they have, were unable or unwilling to try to stand against the might of Origin."

"Good. Then we will proceed as planned once Katlinda has been converted," Adria nodded. "And the other conversions are going well?" 

"Indeed, Orici," Vesuvius dipped his head. "Even just the rumors of your return to the front lines of our crusade have bolstered our conversion rate. In four and a half days, Earth will be the only planet not yet blessed with Origin in this galaxy." 

Adria's lips curved upwards into a smile. "It pleases both me and the rest of the Ori to hear it. Tell the fleet when the deed is done that they have comported themselves well, and that once Earth has been purged they shall be permitted to return home in honor."

"As you command." Vesuvius exited her quarters via the ring transporter and the Orici returned her attention to Vala and Tomin, who were seated together on Vala’s bed with the Book of Origin lying open before them. They were only about a fifth of the way through—the speed of human learning went aggravatingly slow, hence why she had reinstated Tomin as the teacher in this process—but Adria was rather proud of how much her mother had absorbed so far. After the first few sessions under her own watchful eye, she’d even felt comfortable just sitting nearby and doing studies of her own as they read and conversed. The notes on the various religions of Earth that Daniel had provided had proven to be exceptionally intriguing, perhaps because of their utter preposterousness. After learning what some of its people believed, Adria came to the conclusion that getting Earth to convert might be startlingly easy. All she’d have to do is some minor fiery theatrics—the only concrete proof it seemed it had—and poof, seven billion more souls joining her cause. 

“Tomin, you are dismissed,” Adria told him. He got up from the bed obediently and left the room. 

“We’re ending early?” Vala asked, the beginnings of a suspicious frown present on her face. “Why?”

Adria smiled. “A field trip. How would you like to visit Katlinda?”

“If it means getting off this godforsaken ship…”

The Orici scowled. “Mother, what did I say about using such blasphemous language?”

“Fine. This  _ wonderful _ ,  _ lovely _ ship, with its torture chambers and other delightful features.”

“Better.” Adria summoned Feríca to her. The girl bowed. “Fetch four guards from outside; have them meet me here,” she commanded. “Tell them to bring their weapons—we’re going down to the planet. Then dress in something appropriate, as you’ll be coming as well.” Feríca scurried out of the room, and with a snap of Adria’s fingers the other shackle on Vala’s wrist popped open. The surprised relief on Vala’s face was immediate as she regained full use of her right hand—if only for a few moments. The smile fell away immediately as smaller, silvery, self-contained cuffs materialized instead, binding her hands together more discreetly. Nevertheless, Vala slipped her legs off the bed and stood up, nearly falling on her shaky limbs. 

“Prepare yourself,” Adria said loftily. “We’ll be doing a lot of walking and standing. You’ve been cooped up for a while.”

“You mean you’ve been keeping me cooped up,” Vala reminded her, steadying herself.

“And now I’m letting you out on an excursion,” Adria said in a warning tone. Her mother wisely let the matter drop.

When the guards and Feríca returned, Adria activated the ring platform and transported them all down to the planet in one shot. In general she did not abide invasions upon her personal space like those the small circle required, but in this case she made an exception. 

They manifested a few hundred yards away from the village, which was set in the middle of a large plains. A few sparse trees dotted the place, but overall it was rather drab. But from the look on Vala’s face as she beheld the ramshackle buildings and felt the hot breeze on her face, Adria might have been convinced it was a tropical paradise. “Come,” Adria said, motioning for them all to follow her. “Look, the festivities are starting already.” Ahead of them, a large column of smoke was visible. 

Vala sniffed. “What  _ is _ that smell?”

“Burning books,” Adria replied. “One of my favorites, especially if they’re old.” Their small group started for the village, which was already swarming with Ori warriors. The townspeople rightfully seemed to sense the importance of her presence as she strode down the street, ducking back into houses or just plain staring at her finery. Somewhere, a child was crying. 

At the last second, Adria stopped in front of the cloth canopy of a market vendor. The middle-aged man paled as she turned toward him, surveying his selection. “I’m looking for something sweet. Would you make a recommendation?” The man murmured something unintelligible. “Say again,” Adria said, voice dangerously bright. The man shook his head and pointed at one of the bins full of a red-orange fruit. Adria plucked out a particularly large one, weighed it in her palm, and then tossed it to Vala. Her mother caught it despite her bound hands. "A snack for the upcoming entertainment," Adria smiled. They continued on until they arrived in the main square, where the pile of books was located. 

Her warriors scurried around it, adding volumes to the blaze. Around the perimeter about a fourth of the townspeople watched the growth of the pyre fearfully, and more were arriving by the second as their homes were ransacked in search of the offending materials. “Eat,” Adria commanded, noticing that Vala was still carrying her fruit untouched. Her mother looked warily at it before taking a cautious bite under the Orici’s expectant gaze. Juice dribbled down her chin. 

“We are nearly ready for you, Orici,” one of her warriors approached her. It was the man she had promoted in Tomin’s place, whose name she could not be bothered to remember. 

“Where?”

“Up there.” He pointed at a high balcony in one of the nearby buildings. “It overlooks the entire square. The magistrate used to live there, but we’ve already secured it for you.”

“Make sure the magistrate has a good view,” Adria told him, eyes glinting. She turned to her companions. “I shall return. Do not move from this spot.” With clinks of heavy armor, Vala’s four guards nodded and stood at attention. 

Adria strode toward the entrance to the magistrate’s house, black cloak flung out behind her. She traversed several flights of spiral stairs before she reached the top, and when she did, a hush fell over the crowd as she lightly smothered the vocal cords of everyone below. The square was silent except for the crackle of the fire as she sauntered to the edge of the balcony, flanked by two high-ranking warriors in polished armor.

"People of Katlinda,” Adria greeted them, spreading her arms slightly. “Welcome to the light of Origin.” She let her words hang in the air for a moment. “You are a very fortunate group. Most do not get me, the Orici, as the one who will direct them onto the path to Enlightenment.” The flames of the book-burning reached new heights, and with a wave of her hand Adria extinguished them, turning all to ash. The villagers gazed up at her with rapt, anxious attention. “You have had a demonstration of the power of the Ori. Kneel, now, and thank your new gods for their blessings and leniency.” She cast her hard stare around the square, and a few townspeople knelt reluctantly, and then a few more. A mother on the right side pushed her two small children to the ground before her, fear etched in her face. 

“No!” someone shouted. Adria turned toward the commotion of a young man forcing his way to the front of the group. “No! We have only just rid ourselves of the Goa’uld. Are we just going to lie down before another set of false gods and let them walk all over us?” He stared into the sea of his people imploringly, searching for any sign that they sided with him. No one else dared make a sound. “We will not!” he insisted. Desperate, he turned around and looked up at Adria. “Did you hear me? Leave peacefully, before anyone gets hurt! We do not want you here.”

“I did,” Adria replied drily. “And that’s not how this works.” At her wordless command the man was caught under the arms by two of her soldiers. He kicked at them but they persevered, holding him captive. Already more warriors were streaming into the square, carrying large blocks of stone. They knew their duty.

With one last look over the edge of the balcony, Adria spun  around and headed back down to the ground, cloak swirling out behind her. She arrived at Vala and Feríca's location within seconds and dismissed the guards that had been standing loyally by them—she did not anticipate leaving Vala's side again for the duration of this trip. Her mother did not acknowledge her presence, however, and was staring at something over her shoulder. 

Adria turned around to see what it was that had captured her attention so. There was nothing odd going on in the square, but… The realization swept over her. Nearly completed was the burning altar, and Vala had once been burned. 

That explanation satisfied why Vala's pupils were dilated, why her breathing was heavy and her heartbeat quick. It explained the paleness of her face, the tight, clenched muscles of her forearms. It also explained Adria's rare, momentary pause as she considered her next actions. 

"Come, Mother," Adria took hold of her upper arm with a firm grip. "I'd like you to see this." Vala's steps were faltering but forced as the Orici guided her to the fore of the crowd, Feríca trailing behind. 

"Please, Adria, I—" her mother whispered. In front of them, her warriors were just completing the stone dais, and two more plopped the young agitator down on the opposite end. 

Adria stepped forward, pretending not to have heard her plea. She spoke to the crowd at large. "This is what happens to those who needlessly protest the goodness of Origin." Flames streamed from her outstretched hands, lighting the oily surface of the water. The fire spread around the oval, quickly arriving at the bound man, who began to scream. 

Pitiful, the flames hadn't even licked his toes yet. 

The cry of agony heightened in intensity as the flames began to eat their way up his body for real.

"Adria…" Vala's eyes were wide and red-rimmed, self-inflicted fingernail marks in the flesh of her palms. 

"Fine," Adria relented finally, turning away from the spectacle. "Feríca, escort her away." She gestured to the edge of the market, far enough from the burning that the smell of smoldering flesh wouldn't be quite so prominent. Vala had seen enough, Adria reasoned, and there was no real need to exploit this particular weak point of her mother's at this time. Vala had actually been amazingly cooperative over the last few days.

Or perhaps Adria had just lowered her standards. The thought disquieted her, and she turned away from the burning as it lost all interest for her. Earth was next, she reminded herself. It was the big one, the one for which she could not afford to make hasty decisions. 

Then she steeled herself, expression hardening as she swept back through the crowd to rejoin Vala and the young chambermaid. She was the Orici. Her holy crusade would not fail.

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria receives a gift from Earth.

"Orici," Vesuvius entered her chambers. "A missile has been sent up from Earth."

"They think to blow us up? Shoot it down," Adria ordered. As if there was any other course of action. Sometimes the Priors' utter dependency on her direction was puerile.

"I do not think it was meant to hit us. Its propulsion has stopped, and it is in a low orbit beneath us."

Her eyes narrowed. A message? She had planned to make first contact, but it appeared the humans were very eager to speak with her. "Check it for explosives and those anti-Prior devices, and then bring it onboard," she said. She waited in her quarters while her warriors carried out her orders, overseeing Tomin’s teaching session. When Vesuvius informed her that the object was waiting for her on the bridge, she sent Tomin away and left Vala to continue on her own. Without knowing exactly what form this message might come in—or if it was a message at all—she did not dare open it in Vala’s presence lest it try to somehow help her escape, or even report back to Earth on her condition. Adria liked being the one who held the cards, and there was no way she was going to show her hand so early in the process of converting Earth. 

Upon her arrival at the helm, the Orici immediately noticed the black box placed on the floor. There was a small rectangular object lying next to it, with a piece of yellow paper sticky on one end that said:  _ Press here! _ Small nubs decorated the device in rows, and the one the note was pointing to was at the top left. 

She gingerly pressed the button, raising one hand filled with the beginnings of a fireball as the screen flared to life and the device began to emit sound. The grainy image moved of its own accord, a man and a woman seated in armchairs talking to one another. "Yeah, no, I can't believe it'll be five years this year," the man said, as if answering her question. He had very short-cropped hair and the fuzzy beginnings of a beard going all the way around his face. "Nathan, Alan, and Morena were just at my house for dinner and we were reminiscing on all the jokes we had on set and it just kind of hit us." Adria cocked her head at the device, hitting another button on what she now presumed was the remote. The voices disappeared, although the man's lips still moved. She hit it again, and the sound was back.

A different button caused the image to change entirely. "—is not intended for use with antidepressants. Common side effects include rash, fever, nausea, and dizziness, and may occur hours or days after taking—"

Click. The roaring of a crowd filled the room as bulky men lined up on a verdant field surrounded by spectators. All of a sudden they rushed at each other, tackling and brawling in a manner that reminded Adria of scuffles between giant brown bears on the planet Akinth. Humans from Earth thought themselves civilized, when they went at each other like brutes over some small brown object. It must have been made of gold or filled with precious jewels to be worth fighting over like that.

Click. A cucumber with eyes, a nose, and a mouth stared back at her, frozen on the screen wearing a dark jacket. "And now it's time for Silly Songs with Larry, the part of the show where Larry comes out and sings a silly song," said a voice.

"…pizza angel, please come to me…tomato sauce and cheese so gooey…" sang the cucumber, hopping around a table. He lifted things without arms. How disturbing.

Click. "Adria?" She nearly jumped at the sound of her name coming from the device, barely managing to maintain her composure. A man in his late fifties peered at her from onscreen. He wore a dark blue suit with stars on the shoulders. "Good, you got our present. Dr. Lee said he could take that functionality out, but I said, 'What the heck?' Are you enjoying the television channels?"

"Who are you?" Adria demanded.

"Major General Jack O'Neill of the United States Air Force and Head of Homeworld Security," he introduced himself.

"General O'Neill," Adria smiled. "I have heard of you on several of the planets I have visited."

"All good things, I hope," O'Neill replied, with a touch of sarcasm. "Here, I have someone here with me that you might recognize." The image angle tilted upwards, revealing Colonel Mitchell and another man standing on either side of O'Neill looking over his shoulder.

"Adria," Mitchell said.

"This is Carl Strom, head of the IOA," O'Neill continued, gesturing to his left. The man said nothing, looking rather like he'd been forced into silence by the general and was currently biting his tongue as hard as he could.

She hoped it bled. "I assume you're here to make a demand, General?" Adria asked.

"It's more of a threat," the IOA man burst out. "Get out of our solar system, or we'll be forced to destroy you and your ships."

One look from O'Neill shut him down even as Adria raised an eyebrow. "You cannot think to threaten me with your primitive weapons, O'Neill."

"Look, let's start small," O'Neill said. "No one's threatening anybody yet. I want to talk to our people, the ones you took prisoner. Carter, Daniel, Teal'c, Vala. Are they all right?"

"They are…enduring," the Orici told him. "I will… _ consider _ …it."

"All right," O'Neill agreed. "And Adria, this isn't a threat, but if you attack Earth, we will defend ourselves."

"It's your move," Mitchell told her. She hit another button and the device shut off. 

“Yes,” Adria smiled. “Yes, it is.” 

This was an interesting turn of events to say the least, she reflected as she turned away from the device. She honestly hadn’t expected the people of Earth to make the first move… Cower, perhaps, but this was bold. And foolish. It showed their hand, their weaknesses. Carl Strom, head of something called the IOA—Adria had little interest as to what the IOA might be, but he obviously hadn’t been completely in agreement with General O’Neill throughout that conversation. The people of Earth weren’t even trying to present a unified front against her army. 

It was…rather pathetic, really. And it only served to further the Orici’s cause more, providing more proof that the dispersion of leadership roles in government among many and allowing such diversity of thought and ideology as Earth was detrimental to their stability as a society. Too long, it appeared, had Earth been separated from the rest of the galaxy through ignorance and the lack of a functioning Stargate. They had grown complacent with their own protection.

The Orici had no qualms taking full advantage of that. 

Adria spun around, leaving the bridge and making her way to the ring platform that would take her down to Daniel. Her prisoner looked up as she entered, fear quickly masked by a an expression of indifference. “Oh, goody, you’re back,” Daniel greeted her. “I gave that list you wanted to one of the guards.”

“I received it,” Adria replied evenly. “We have yet to see how accurate it may turn out to be.”

“How’s Vala?” Daniel asked. 

Adria allowed to her lips to curl upward ever so slightly. “She is recovering. But that will change if you don’t tell me everything I want to know.”

“I want to see her.”

Adria’s smile widened. “ _ No _ .” Daniel glared at her. “I wish to speak to the people of Earth, but never before have we converted a planet with such a large population as seven billion.”

“You could write a book,” Daniel suggested. 

“And the common masses on your planet could read such a thing?” Adria questioned, eyes narrowed. Of course in the Ori galaxy most everyone could read—they had to read the Book of Origin, after all—but she and the Priors had quickly found that this was not the case on most planets in the Milky Way. 

“Oh, yes,” Daniel told her. “Reading’s a huge pastime on Earth. Everybody reads. We can’t get enough of books.” His falsehood stuck out to her like a sore thumb and Adria’s eyes flashed. 

“I do not believe you,” she hissed. “Besides, books must be printed and bound. There must be a more efficient means. What of the device you call a ‘television channels’?”

“Uh…” Daniel frowned. “How do you know about that?”

“Your General O’Neill sent one as a means of communication with me,” Adria revealed, regarding the information of little importance. Perhaps mention of SG-1’s previous leader would throw Daniel off enough to say more about this device than he normally would. 

“First, it’s a  _ television _ ,” Daniel corrected. “It’s an appliance people on Earth watch for entertainment.”

“How does it work?”

“I don’t really know,” he replied. She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t! Not the technicalities. For some of them—and I’m guessing the one you have—companies broadcast signals that go up to satellites orbiting Earth, and the satellites send the signal back down to each. The signal is interpreted as images and sound.”

“And how many people have such a device?”

He shrugged helplessly. “Most, in the developed countries anyway.” Adria smiled. She had found a way to get her message out, but hijacking the signal between these television systems seemed unappealing to Adria. Colonel Carter could be convinced to help, but Adria did not particularly want to run the risk of having the woman near any sort of technology with which she might attempt to escape or sabotage Adria’s ship. 

But perhaps there was another way Carter could be of use to the Orici. 

“We’ll speak again soon, Daniel,” she said, turning and walking out of his cell.

“Could you ask Jack to send me a TV too?” he called after her. Adria merely made the door slam shut with a clang behind her in response. She headed back up to her chambers to check on Vala, as it was almost time for Tomin to return for their session and she disliked leaving her mother unsupervised beyond Feríca for long lengths of time. 

Upon entering her chambers a surge of dissatisfaction immediately flowed through her that had nothing to do with the sight that greeted her. Vala was seated on the bed with one hand chained and one flipping the pages of the Book of Origin, looking bored—as usual—and Feríca was tidying up a bit of dirt tracked in by Tomin as he had come in  to have his lessons with Vala. No, her dissatisfaction had nothing to do with her mother's begrudging progress through her indoctrination or the fact that Adria would be admonishing a certain Ori warrior later for being negligent in the upkeep and polishing of his boots. It was Daniel, despite his providing of some relatively useful information today. His spirit had not yet broken, and that bothered her. In her past experiences with the men—or women, on occasion—she had captured, they had all cowered before her within three days time…usually less. It disturbed her how different these people were. They did not have a legacy of slavery under Goa'uld rule on their home planet, and their backs were thus unused to bending. 

Normally Adria would have relished the challenge, given of course her eventual inevitable triumph in the battle of wills. Now, however…with her entire quest hanging in the balance, she wished Earth was just another world she could sweep away like the dust beneath her feet. 

She watched Feríca for another moment, who had bowed at her entrance and then continued her task, before turning to Vala. Adria gracefully took a seat on the edge of the bed, and her mother spared a single glance at her before returning her gaze to the pages of the Book. "You are making progress, Mother. You are almost a fourth of the way through it."

"Well, I've got nothing else to do but sit around and twiddle my thumbs," Vala answered with a brief flash of white teeth at her own dark humor. She leaned down again to concentrate on the Book, ebony curls falling to cover most of her face again.

"Mother, are you all right?" Adria asked, a frown creasing her brow. Vala was acting strangely, but beyond that Adria could not describe it. "Speak to me; is there something wrong?" Reaching out to move her mother's hair out of her face, Adria almost missed the flash of Vala's movement. 

Almost.

But that split second of realization did nothing to stop Vala's knife from slipping between her ribs.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria deals with being stabbed...and all of its implications.

To her own horror, the dagger felt like ice invading her body, spreading a piercing pain throughout her chest cavity even as her knees slowly buckled beneath her. Vala sprang away from the knife almost the moment it had been inserted to its maximum depth, her arms immediately shooting upwards to protect herself from the wrath Adria could not yet summon. There was so much pain…

And yet, in another moment, the pain gave way to anger. Rage. She felt her hand grasp the hilt of the knife seemingly of its own accord, the slipperiness of her own blood—gods did not  _ bleed _ —coating her fingertips. She brought the crimson blade slashing down upon her mother, leaving a considerable gash on her cheek as Vala ducked away. 

Adria hurled the knife to the side where it stuck, quivering, in the stone wall, drawing upon her powers by instinct as her eyes burned white-hot, filling with flames. Even her clothes, which she had made to be impervious to the holy fire of Origin, began to smoke under the pure, unbridled fury possessing her. An attack on her life… _ by her own mother _ . A fireball shot from her palm, scorching the bed’s headboard and the wall behind Vala and singing her clothes and flesh. The room had become impossibly warm; dimly Adria was aware of Feríca cowering behind her but for now all that mattered was the sensation of hatred flowing through her veins. 

She leaned closer to Vala, making sure she could feel the heat radiating off of her skin—sandwiched between them, the Book of Origin burst into flames. It was reduced to a pile of ashes within seconds, and that, for some reason, stopped Adria’s rampage. She knew she could not kill Vala, as clearly as she knew that it would be eventual folly to do so out of such anger. 

She straightened, back as stiff as a board, glaring at her mother—the traitor—with all the menace her amber eyes could hold. Adria pressed a hand to her side, where the deep cut had been made, focusing inward on her powers. The wound itself had almost been forgotten in her fury, the slight to her reign more important than simple matters of the flesh. Reddish-orange light began to seep out of the gash in lieu of blood, becoming bright enough that both Vala and Feríca had to turn away. Then the light was gone. She was healed. 

“You have betrayed me, Mother,” Adria hissed. She became aware of the pounding of her heart, the metallic taste in her mouth. “I shall not be so generous as to give you the opportunity again.” She turned her head towards the door. “Guards!”

They were inside within ten seconds, blinking in shock at the wrecked remains of her once elaborate chamber and shuffling their feet like beasts of burden nervous about Adria’s obvious outburst. “Take her to the cells,” the Orici growled. She looked at Feríca. “Take them  _ both _ . Far from the others. Allow no visitors until I say otherwise—no food, no water.” She spared one glance at her mother, who was now gazing at her limply with tears in her eyes, Whether from pain, or sadness, or fear of what was to come—Adria found she no longer cared. “ _ Do not be gentle _ . And find Tomin! I wish to speak with him immediately.”

Her warriors hastened to follow her orders, jabbing at Vala with their spears until she nearly rolled off the bed in a bundle of limbs. Feríca let out a small whimper of fright as they led her away as well, but made no struggle. Submission as a devout follower of Origin, or guilt…? No matter. Adria had more likely suspects than her handmaiden—she had no doubt in her mind that it was Tomin—she had acted as foolishly as the humans of Earth in trusting him and Vala together. She did not know whether it was the Ori knowledge pressing upon her brain or her own deadly intuition, but nevertheless, she knew she was right. 

The ashen color of Tomin’s face as he was shoved into her quarters at spearpoint confirmed everything, the fiery rage consuming her once again. “How?” she demanded, stalking towards him. 

He bowed his head. “No, Orici. I’m done helping you torture innocent people.”

“It is not torture to show them the Path to Enlightenment,” Adria spat. “You used to know that, Tomin.”

He stood straighter, raised his head to hold it level, steady. For the first time she noticed that he was a few inches taller than she. “If I have been Enlightened at all by you,  _ Adria _ , it has been to show me how false you are. You delight in pain, misery, and suffering, and care for naught but your own gain. You are more unbeliever than Orici.” Tomin’s eyes had a watery quality to them, but still his voice was strong and full of spite as they connected unceasingly to her own. “You do not follow any of the teachings of Origin. I reject you as Vala has rejected you, because we both recognize the truth to which you are either too blinded or simply do not care to see: no matter how much time you spend among humans, trying to sway us, Enlighten us, bond with us, you are not and will never be human. You cannot fool us into thinking you care, or can ever understand, what it is to be mortal. You are just a monster, incapable of giving or receiving love.” His eyes were definitely filled with tears now, though Adria could not fathom through her shock and fury why that would be. “I know by saying this I have condemned myself. Do to me what you will.”

Adria smiled, focusing her power even as she spoke. It channeled like a fine thread of heat through her veins, waxing from stream to river to flood. “Good. Then we understand each other.” She felt it surge within her like lightning, sparking out her palms and eyes and every other orifice, illuminating the room with flashes of brilliant red light. Tomin disintegrated in pieces wherever the light touched him, first looking down at his torso for the gaping hole in his chest before being struck in the arms, side, and head. His mouth opened in a soundless scream of pain milliseconds before the last of him fell to dust and the light emanating from Adria faded away, leaving her breathless and covered in a sheen of moisture that she almost didn't recognize as her own excretions. Today had been an exhausting day, to say the least…between the healing and Tomin’s demise, she had not had to wield so much power in so few minutes many times before. 

“He was right, you know,” a grating, somewhat gravelly voice said from behind her. Adria whirled around. “About you. Killing him doesn’t make any of it untrue.”

“Ganos Lal,” she growled. “Begone. Or I shall make you be gone.”

Morgan Le Fay looked at her, glowing with ghostly light. “I don’t think so. You’re in no condition to face me and win right now, Adria, no matter how many worlds you command. Sheer force of will is not on your side.”

“Then attack,” the Orici challenged, daring with her eyes for Morgan to call her bluff. She did not know if the meddling Alteran was correct, or what the end outcome of such a battle would be. 

“I would,” Morgan replied. “If I was not restrained by our laws. It would be against my own self-interest. Unless of course, you were to attack me first, on the Ascended plane…then I could defend myself. But I don't think you will.”

“Your laws are the very reason I shall so easily defeat you,” Adria spat. “A warrior cannot hope to win a fight when he has cut off his own limbs.”

“Your verbal games hold no interest to me,” Morgan replied. “Hiding behind them will do you no good. If you had the strength to defeat me, you would have done so already. You cannot. You are not invincible. Thus, I ask again for your surrender.”

“Never.”

The lines around Ganos Lal’s eyes tightened. “You will regret this someday, Orici.”

“One of us surely will,” she replied haughtily. “Begone, now, Ganos Lal.” The Alteran glowed and disappeared, but the steely look in Morgan Le Fay’s eyes as she did so made it clear that Adria hadn’t won. Yet. 

With her chambers now empty save Adria herself, she allowed herself a modicum of relaxation, a moment to clear her mind. Her lungs expanded with a deep breath of oxygen, cooling some of the fire within her. Her eyes drifted to the knife still lodged in the wall, and with a small frown she crossed over to it. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt, pulling it deftly from the wall. A knot of suspicion formed in her mind, layered over by confusion. This knife shouldn’t have been able to touch her at all. Her Celestis pendant should have protected her from harm, created an energy shield of blue-green light that prevented it from getting anywhere near her skin. So what was so special about this knife? She turned it over, reached out with her mind, examined it in every way she could think of—yet it still remained an ordinary blade of ordinary metals.

If it wasn’t the blade…

Her hand reached up, finding the shard of Celestis she wore around her neck. Her fingers curled around it, then yanked harshly, the leather cord snapping at the base of her spine. Hadn’t she thought, days ago, that the color looked off? How had she not realized, or thought to check, when Prior Vesuvius handed it to her…

With the sharp tang of betrayal in her mouth, Adria stormed out of her room and toward the rings. For the third time that day, fury mounted within her. She activated the rings with her mind, transporting her up several levels to the helm of the ship where Vesuvius was stationed. He was not there, and her anger spiked even higher. Reaching out with her mind, the Orici located him within his quarters, and using the rings again Adria was there within moments. “Begone!” she thundered at the pair of guards standing alert outside his door. 

“Yes, Orici!” They hurried off. 

The door sprang open with a sweep of her hand and Adria stalked into the room. It was lit with torches in each corner, and the Book of Origin lay closed on a low table near the center. Lying next to it was her Celestis pendant. The true pendant.

Vesuvius stepped out of the shadows, scarred and submissive as ever. “Yes, Orici?”

Adria didn't bother responding, her hand reaching for his throat with enough force to drive him across the room and slam him into the opposite wall. She could feel his pulse hammer against her fingers. 

“Orici—” he gasped. 

“How dare you betray me,” she hissed, tightening her grip. It occurred to her that this kind of execution with her own hands was beneath her,  something she would normally detest, but the Prior wasn't worth one ounce more of her powers than she’d already spent on him. 

The gagging ceased, but he wasn't dead. His eyes glowed gold. “You found me.” It was the deep, metallic voice of a Goa’uld. In her shock, Adria’s fingers loosened slightly. “It will be good to be reunited, Orici.”

“Ba’al,” Adria said, feeling her skin crawl in a way she hadn't thought herself capable of anymore. He should not be able to get under her skin such as this—nothing should—and yet he did, the memory of helplessness, of powerlessness, of being trapped as merely an observer within her own mind vivid and viscerally horrifying.

Prior Vesuvius’s mouth opened, and Adria saw something rising fast from within its depths, heard the shrill squeal—

Fiery pain exploded at the back of her throat, snaking all the way up to the base of her skull, causing her to choke and gag and spit up blood on the front of Vesuvius’s robes as his body crumpled to the floor. She fell to one knee as the paralysis set in, but her vision only clouded this time—she retained some control, and she could sense the confusion of the  _ thing _ that had invaded her as it realized the same. 

A Goa’uld had never tried to take over an ascended mind, Adria thought, and she felt her lips smile ferally at the thought. Ba’al fought her for control, but she fought right back, stabbing with her thoughts every time she felt the malevolent presence creeping in. He might have a foothold but she was the Orici, the power of the Ori made flesh, the goddess revered by billions of people spread over hundreds of worlds. No longer was he tearing through her consciousness, he was on the receiving end—she was getting bits of  _ his _ memory now—

_ —learning of his fellow clone’s capture of the Orici, the sense of satisfaction that filled him— _

— _ the Orici’s flagship appearing on sensors, the anger at having been tracked, the pleasure at the thought of using the situation to his advantage— _

— _ disgust at the revolting visage of his new host, but the lust for power driving him on— _

_ —his revulsion at being expected to say the words of these false gods, “Hallowed are the Ori” and refusing to do so— _

_ —placing an anti-Ori resistance member in the selected pool for new Priorship, blaming another Prior for the mistake when the Orici proved more capable than expected— _

“Aghhhhhh!” Adria was not sure which of them had made the sound come out of her throat but she thought it was Ba’al; such an undignified noise did not befit the Orici. The distraction was enough, however. She gained control of her right hand and plunged it toward the back of her neck, nails ripping through her own flesh. She took hold of the creature’s slimy body and tore it from her neck, flinging it across the room where it lay, limp and flaccid. 

Adria stood, breathing hard. Blood spilled freely down the column of her spine, but the wound was healing rapidly as she pulled from the Ori’s power.  Her heart thundered with receding shock and rage, leaving just one thing clear to Adria. 

No more waiting. 

No more games.

Her takeover of Earth started  _ now _ . 

She barely paid any attention as, back in her chambers, she burned her soiled clothing and scrubbed the scarlet signs of weakness from her skin. She barely noticed as she marched down to the prisoner cells, barely noticed Daniel’s wary look, the way her mother shrunk away from her. Adria came back to herself with a surge of triumph as she pulled open the door to Colonel Carter’s cell. 

The woman looked up at her, waiting. 

“What is your relationship with General Jack O’Neill?” Adria demanded. 

Carter’s pupils dilated, though her voice was steady. “He's my commanding officer.”

“You lie.”

“No, I don't! He's in charge of Homeworld Security.”

“Yes…but that is not all he is to you, is he?” Adria was glad she had started with listening to her intuition, and not with Cameron Mitchell or Carl Strom of the IOA. Cameron Mitchell might have been a better choice, given that he was the leader of the team on which Carter served, but her gamble had paid off. She smiled at the pained expression on Samantha Carter’s face. “Does he reciprocate your feelings?”

“There are no feelings,” Carter said through gritted teeth. “He is a good friend. That's all.”

“I don't believe you. Do I need to start torturing Daniel or Vala to get the answer to my very simple question?”

Carter glared at her, but by the intensity of it Adria knew she was about to cave. “If he did feel something, I wouldn't know about it,” the woman said coldly. “It's against the rules for anything to happen between us. Even if we did feel something, we would never act on it.”

Adria smirked. “Good enough. Get up.”

Carter looked at her suspiciously but rose to her feet. “Where are we going?”

“Don't worry, I wager you'll enjoy seeing your dear General again,” she replied as she stalked out of the cell, gesturing the woman in front of her. Carter held up her shackled wrists with a raised eyebrow. Adria matched her expression as the thick chains connecting her wrists and ankles to the cell floor snapped in half. 

The Orici had no patience for guards as she marched Carter up to the ship’s helm, sending them scurrying when they tried to follow. She didn't miss the way Carter looked eagerly out the main window when they reached their destination, but the view out the glass was of little importance to Adria. Neither did she miss the look of longing that flashed by on the woman’s face as she gazed at her beloved Earth, followed by a fierce determination to protect it. 

Unfortunately for her, that was exactly the opposite of what Adria brought her up here to do. 

Adria turned the colonel’s attention to the black box Daniel had called a television, eyes cold and commanding. “General O’Neill and others of Earth have contacted me before through this device. Make it happen again.”

Carter’s brow furrowed as if she had already begun working on the problem, but she still snarked, “Have you tried turning it on?” Adria didn't deign to give that a response, and Carter began to work anyway, picking up the remote lying beside it and pressing a series of buttons. The screen turned on, and eventually asked,  _ Establish connection to the SGC? _ She looked at Adria. 

“Do it,” the Orici ordered. 

_ Connecting…  _ the screen read. It stayed like that for over a minute. 

“So primitive,” Adria commented, her impatience and contempt growing at equal rates as the time passed. “Unless you have tried to trick me, in which case you shall be punished. Severely.”

“I haven't tried to trick you,” Carter replied with a stony look. “I'm sure they've set it up so they have to accept the connection on their end.” Just as she finished saying it, the screen filled with the grainy image of the same three men from before. In one fluid motion, Adria yanked Carter toward her, hand gripping her harshly under the chin. She lifted upwards, exposing her neck to the same knife Vala had slipped into Adria’s ribs hours previously. She met the astonished stares of the three men with satisfaction, pressing the knife slowly against the colonel’s jugular. 

“Allow me safe passage to spread the salvation of Origin to the people of Earth,” Adria said, “or Colonel Carter dies.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria sends a message to the people of Earth.

“Let her go, Adria!” The General’s voice was no longer measured or controlled as it had been the last time they talked, but full of anger and a tinged with a delicious desperation. 

“I think not,” the Orici hissed. “You have heard my demands: take them or leave them.”

“Adria,” Mitchell warned. 

“We do not bargain Earth away for the life of any one person!” Carl Strom of the IOA shouted, voice unnaturally high-pitched. “We do not negotiate with terrorists!”

Both O’Neill and Mitchell looked at him. 

“You won’t do it,” Mitchell said, turning back to her. His pulse jumped in his neck, visible despite the less-than-perfect camera image.  “Carter’s too valuable for you to lose.”

“No...she is too valuable for  _ you _ to lose,” Adria corrected him with an icy sneer. “Having someone of Colonel Carter’s intellect permanently off my ship and out of this existence would be a boon to me, I assure you.” 

“Don’t,” O’Neill said, and Carter squirmed slightly at the sound of his voice. Internally, Adria smiled. Her intuition had been right. 

“I have no quarrel with Earth, General," Adria said, looking at him directly. "I could just come down there and deliver my message myself. Instead, I'm offering you Colonel Carter in exchange for your cooperation. One broadcast message. Five minutes, General.” She blinked coyly. “I am not the one mistreating the people of Earth. I merely wish to get the message of Origin to them. You, in this case, are the oppressor. You will not even allow them to choose for themselves.”

“We have nothing against the freedom of choice,” Strom said, regaining his bluster. “It’s just that you will be able to give proof of Origin that the other religions of Earth cannot give, making it a false choice.”

“Proof?” Adria asked with a smile. 

The IOA man turned the color of puce. “I didn’t mean proof! False proof, that’s what I meant! I didn’t—“ 

Adria tugged Carter up closer to her, knife digging further into the Colonel’s neck, stopping the man’s blathering. “It’s your decision, O’Neill.”

“We want Carter first,” O’Neill said flatly. 

“Unacceptable.”

“Come on, Adria, you hold all of the cards,” Mitchell burst out. “We don’t deliver, you’ll just torture Daniel or Vala or Teal’c. Hell, you might do it anyways even if we do.”

Adria graced him with a thin smile. “I’m glad you understand your situation, Colonel.”

“So give us this, for cryin’ out loud,” O’Neill said. 

“Expect her by the rings,” the Orici said, then hit the button she had watched Carter use to turn the communication device off. She waited until the screen had faded to blackness before lifting the blade from Carter’s neck, leaving a line of scarlet. “It appears O’Neill cares for you after all.”

“You’re not going to send me, are you?” Carter’s voice was flat and without hope. 

“Actually, I will.”

“That doesn’t make strategic sense,” Carter said. “I have the greatest knowledge of Ori technology of anyone on Earth. Your weapons systems, their capabilities, your shields…” She paled. “If you are going to send me to them, what are you going to do to me first?”

Adria nodded. “I do have respect for you, Colonel Carter. You understand your predicament, and mine, well. You guess correctly that I cannot allow you to return to Earth in any useful fashion.”

“If you kill me and send my body, they will attack,” the woman warned. Adria could feel her mustering as much strength as she could for that statement, bolstering the certainty in her voice. 

“You will be alive,” the Orici promised. She gestured toward the chair at the helm, formerly held by Vesuvius. “Sit.”

Carter eyed her warily, but did as she was told. 

“I would advise you stay as still as you can, if you wish your faculties to all remain when I am done,” Adria said, placing her palm against Carter’s forehead, fingers reaching the first matted strands of the woman’s dirty blonde hair. 

“What?!” Carter protested, jerking away and bringing up one hand to twist at Adria’s forearm. “No!”

“Be still,” Adria commanded, immobilizing Carter’s errant limbs with her mind. “You will be reunited with your dear General O’Neill soon. Think of that.” 

Once she was confident that the woman had ceased her struggle—because, really, what hope had she against the powers of the Orici?—Adria released the hold on her legs and arms and instead focused her energies through the palm of her hand, delving deep into the Colonel’s mind.

Sam screamed.

Adria grit her teeth, focusing around the flashes of memory flirting by, trying to hone in on what she was looking for, trying not to take in too much of this insignificant mortal’s life as she did so. When she found the memories held of the Ori ship, she twisted them into harsh knots, dampening them, making them all but impossible to relive in detail, and even then, in excruciating pain. Her powers as the Orici did not cover this—she drew directly on the vast reserves of the Ori, diminishing them ever so slightly in order to achieve this task. 

When she withdrew, Sam—since when was the prisoner Sam? this is why Adria had not dared do this before, for to even touch the minds of her enemies was a contact innately mutual—did not react, but gazed forward with glazed eyes. Then she blinked, focusing on Adria. “You,” she said. Carter broke off one of the controls on the side of the helm chair and jabbed the shard toward Adria. It bounced off the blue-green energy shield restored by her true Celestis pendant, burning Sam’s hand. 

One of the guards stood near the doorway but Adria had no use for him—rather for his weapon in her wrath. The members of SG-1 had an annoying,  _ futile _ propensity for trying to stab her it seemed, and the Orici had had  _ enough _ . The spear soared through the air into Adria’s hand in one fluid motion and she directed it downward into Carter’s thigh, causing a scream of agony. Adria pulled out the spear with a squelch, then tossed it to the side in contempt. “I believe this will give you and General O’Neill planet to contend with,” she said. Casting her hand to the side, she threw Carter into the ring platform, activating it with her mind. The rings descended at a dizzying speed towards the Earth, then straight down to the SGC’s doorstep. 

Now, to  _ plan _ her next step. 

Adria swept off the bridge, her black cloak swirling behind her as she did so, and took the rings back down to the detention level. As she approached him, Daniel’s eyes met hers, burning with mixture of anxiety and anger. “Where did you take her?”

“Colonel Carter is no longer your concern,” Adria replied. “Tell me: where is a location on Earth where the most people could congregate? Where could I best spread my message to the world?”

Daniel gritted his teeth. “Where. Is. She.”

Adria narrowed her eyes. “If I told you ‘on Earth,’ would you believe me?”

“Not for a second,” he replied immediately. “There’s no deal the SGC could make that would make you give up the most valuable member of SG-1.”

“How humble.”

He stared at her, realization dawning slowly in his inferior human mind, struggling with mental processes it could not possibly comprehend. “But you did?” He looked away. “Why?” he muttered. “You hold—held—all the power. You didn’t  _ need _ to give up anything. But…” His neck twisted, snapping to face her again. “Why haven’t you just sent down a plague?” She said nothing, regarding him. “Or any of the other manipulative parlor tricks in your arsenal? Started burning cities? Dropped rings into the highest government offices and struck our leaders down before declaring yourself leader and god?” He breathed in, out, eyes clearing. “You can’t, can you? You need us. Why?”

“Stop this nonsense,” Adria ordered. “I do not  _ need _ you or Earth, Daniel Jackson.”

“No, I think you do,” the man said, sitting up properly as he hadn’t for days. “You need the people of Earth to believe in you, to provide the power to defeat the Ancients. You’re running out of worlds left to convert, aren’t you? And with no history of slavery under the Goa’uld…” Daniel’s eyes were burning with an entirely different kind of fire now. “...Earth’s population is one of the highest in the Milky Way.” 

Adria glared at him. “You know nothing, Daniel.”

“Oh, I think I know everything,” the man said, scooting backwards to lean against the stone wall. 

“Then you know what I will do if you do not give me the information I am looking for,” Adria hissed, voice low and dangerous.  “Have you forgotten that your actions do not only affect your pain, but  _ hers _ as well?” 

“No,” Daniel replied, voice rough. “Of course I haven’t. How could I?” His eyes flashed with anger. “I didn’t miss your guards bringing her back down here, Adria.” His voice devolved into a harsh whisper.  “I didn’t miss her sobbing _ for hours _ after they did. I’m starting to think you’ll hurt her no matter what I do.”

Vala, crying? Adria hadn’t even done anything to her yet. Well, except kill Tomin, but Vala didn’t even know about that yet. She filed the information away for later, leaning down close to Daniel. "Where on Earth would be best to make my statement?" Adria demanded, elevating the danger in her voice. He did not respond, just pressed his lips into a firm line. "Daniel..." Adria warned. “It does not matter what happens to Vala of her own accord, but you can be assured that what you do—or refuse to do—will have an affect on her well-being.” 

The silence stretched for one minute. Two. "New York City," he said finally, glaring at her with clenched teeth. “Central Park.”

"Do not try to trick me," Adria narrowed her eyes. "Would not more of Earth's population live in the City of Old York?" 

The man looked at her with incredulity, his lips curving upwards into the ghost of a smile. “Not trying to pull anything on you, Adria. You want a large crowd, that's where you'll find it.”

“Fine,” Adria stood, brushing the dust off her clothing. “You have been helpful, if insufferable, Daniel." She turned to the guards. "Bring him something to drink.” 

“Thanks,” Daniel said sarcastically. “Have fun in New York.”

The Orici smiled. “Oh, I plan to.”

 

* * *

“Hello,” Adria said with a smile, looking directly into the dot of the camera above the device’s screen. She stood on the helm of her ship, the vastness of the galaxy visible out the window behind her.  “I am the Orici, and I bring to you the gift of Origin. My name is Adria, and I speak to you now from a ship far above your planet. 

“I have searched for the Earth for a long time. Your galaxy is vast and holds many wonders, you among them. You have built an amazing society, and yet you still kill each other over the most basic of matters: that of religion. I am here today to put an end to that, to the uncertainty, to everything that causes you to fight amongst yourselves and unite you under the light of Origin. 

“I have read your religious texts, your Bible, your Torah, your Qur'an, your Vedas...and they are closer than I ever expected to the truth. They all speak of life after death, or reincarnation, or life everlasting. But I now present to you the truth that you've been seeking for so long through all of these motivational, yet incomplete, flawed works: the Book of Origin. You'll find that it has many similarities with what you already believe to be true, but I bring along the proof you've been lacking. As the Orici, I bring with me a demonstration of the powers of the Ori for any who wish to see it. So come to me, in the City of New York, Central Park  tomorrow at high noon, and bring your cameras, bring your historians, bring your sick and they shall be healed. 

“I will allow you any security measures you would like to put in place, and I must warn you there may be a military presence around our meeting place, but do not let that dissuade you from hearing what I have to say. They are there to protect you from what they see as a possible threat, but they cannot stop you. I have read your Constitution as well, and I have no wish to assemble anything but peacefully.” Adria smiled again, playing the camera. “I look forward to meeting you all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see what happened to Sam once she got back to Earth, check out the S/J outtake that goes along with this story, posted as the next work in the series!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria shows the light of Origin to Earth.

Earth was...surprisingly captivating, though she was loathe to admit it even to herself as she stepped off the ring platform on the edge of the City of New York’s Central Park. On one side, buildings towered like nowhere else in the galaxy, struck by rays of sunlight that sparkled and reflected off panels of melted sand. Very few places besides Earth had found such uses for molten sand as to create anything except the windows for starships. The towering buildings were also highly unusual, between the Goa’uld enslavement of most of the human populations that halted their architectural advancement and the fact that most discovered worlds had a working Stargate and thus their sights set on constructing things that could go much higher and take them to places that no building ever could. 

Still, if one didn’t look too closely, it had a certain elegance to it. Nothing in comparison to her gleaming warships, of course, especially upon further inspection at the various bits of debris that lay scattered along the ground and blew along in the wind, but elegant nonetheless. Or perhaps it was just a nice change of pace from standard Ori design and the unevolved towns and villages Adria had been converting for months. 

Of course, it would have looked nicer without the view of a score of men in military uniform surrounding her, weapons raised and pointed at her chest. As she surveyed them, a loud, shrill  _ weeeeeeeeeyouuuuuu _ sound filled the air as well, and three black-and-white vehicles adorned with flashing red and blue lights on top screamed to a stop on the street next to her. More men spilled out of them, also armed with guns but wearing different uniforms than the others. 

“Don’t try anything,” Adria warned them almost lazily, mostly addressing the ones dressed like SGC personnel in front of her, but speaking loudly enough for the rest to hear as well. She spread her arms, revealing the fact that she had no weapons. “I come in peace, remember?” As if there was anywhere to hide them on her anyway, what with the form-fitting black leather dress and jacket ensemble she was wearing—in fact, the some one she had worn when SG-1 had captured her on their ship, all that time ago. 

As if she needed a weapon in order to kill them all this instant, if she wanted to. 

Repressing her smirk and smiling instead, Adria turned her back on the men in uniform and faced the ring platform instead, awaiting the arrival of the Priors. They did not keep her waiting long, appearing in a white beam of light a mere minute after she had. Above, a small scout ship appeared, dropping a stone dias onto the grass before streaking off again. A moment later, two F-302s appeared overhead in hot pursuit, but the scout was already returning to Adria’s warship. 

As she mounted the dias, the two Priors followed her, taking positions on either side about five paces away with their staffs glowing dully. Standing in the middle, Adria looked out at the scene again and was pleased to find that civilians had joined the crowd at the foot of it now, almost outnumbering the military men who had grudgingly spread out into a wide circle to accommodate them, and more were streaming in by the second. Many of them were carrying or wheeling large devices which Adria assumed was Earth’s primitive camera equipment, to be used to broadcast Adria’s message to the rest of this world. 

Good. She wanted them all to hear it. 

* * *

Within the hour, Adria had sufficiently shocked the population of Central Park, which had grown steadily throughout the Orici’s speech until her voice no longer reached the back of the group by normal means and she had to augment its projection with her powers. She had shocked them in all of the most satisfying ways, mostly imagining the headaches and more she was giving the people at Stargate Command. Connected as they all were by the gate system or their ship-bearing overlords, no world had yet been unfamiliar with the existence of aliens, or the preposterous idea of ‘little green men’ on other planets as one such man had put it.

“I am surprised you did not know this,” Adria had told them, acting demure. “Your government has been sending emissaries out into the galaxy for years now...is it customary on this planet to withhold such important information from its people?”

But while that revelation had created quite the clamor, Adria deftly steered the conversation back to why they were really here—the light and power of Origin. As much as she enjoyed stirring up trouble for General O’Neill and the like, she had no wish for her message of salvation to be overshadowed by these revelations. 

“But how can you prove all of these things you’re saying?” one particularly astute woman asked. “Robin Schaeffer, reporter for World Wide News.”

“As the Orici, I am blessed with many gifts which I can bestow upon the followers of Origin as blessings for their devotion,” Adria replied. “I will gladly demonstrate some of them now.” Clasping her hands together for dramatic effect, she turned her attention to the soil beneath her feet, and the rocks beneath those, bringing her power to bear. The earth rumbled beneath her, gently but distinct—not enough to knock down buildings, but enough for the reporters to feel what she had done. Then, casting her hand forward in a sweeping motion around the dias, Adria ignited flames around them, shooting three feet high and then remaining there, leaving the Orici and her Priors clearly visible above them. 

The crowd of reporters took a collective step backwards, nearly stumbling over themselves in shock. 

“In my original message,” Adria called out, “I asked for you to bring your sick, such that they would be healed by Origin. You asked for a miracle, and I will grant it.” There was shuffling amongst the gathered crowd, before a few eventually emerged at the forefront. Nine in total, some supported by friends or relatives, others by contraptions of metal poles or wheeled chairs. “Behold, the power of Origin.” Adria raised her eyes and hand to the sky, hearing the stamp of the staff of the Prior to the left hitting the stone dias. The day became brighter, lit by the blue glow of the staff. 

When the light had faded, Adria lowered her hand and returned her gaze to the nine supplicants in front of the dias, who were gazing at each other in wonder. A woman who had once been sickly and weak was now steady and surefooted, a man now standing on his own two legs for the first time in years. “The light of Origin has healed you,” she addressed them. “Go in peace to spread the message of your salvation.” 

One of the men hesitated, then knelt before the dias. The others around him were too stunned by the display of power and their newfound health. “Thank you,” he said, head bowed. “...Orici.” 

“Rise, and tell all others of your blessing,” Adria told him, almost kindly. “The light of Origin is open to all who wish to see it.” Lifting her head, she addressed the crowd once more. “I leave you now two of the Priors of Origin, humble harbingers of the good news. They will continue to do good works among you, so that all may know the truth of the salvation I bring you.” At once Adria extinguished the flames with her mind, striding off the dias and entering the ring platform. As she did so, she could see the reporters begin to congregate around the nine she had healed and question them as eagerly as they had questioned her. Then she activated the rings with her mind, and shot upwards towards her ship. 

“Have you been properly received, Orici?” Prior Avernix greeted her when she stepped off the ring platform nearest to her quarters. 

“I have,” Adria answered. “The people of Earth have witnessed the light of Origin, and it will not be long now until they accept it.” 

“You are most divine, Orici,” Avernix dipped his scarred, white head. “They are fools and unbelievers if they do not accept you, and they will burn, as it is written in the Book of Origin.”

“Yes,” Adria said, surveying her new head Prior. She had promoted him from where he had been in charge of the torture of the prisoners now they had all been sufficiently broken and his services were less needed—in part because Adria now liked to inflict their torment herself, for greater effect. Still, he had an annoying habit of spouting passages from the Book of Origin at her—as if she didn’t memorize the entire thing under the tutelage of the Priors who had raised her to adulthood in a matter of days—but it was better than Vesuvius, who had rejected the path of Origin altogether because he had been secretly implanted by Ba’al. “Have you finished the report on the state of my army?”

“It awaits you in your chambers, Orici,” Avernix said, lowering his head again as he did with each statement out of deference. 

“I do not wish to read it all now,” Adria said waspishly. She had ordered him to make a full investigation as to the  _ actual _ state of her ships and troops after Vesuvius’s betrayal, and it was likely to be both protracted and boring. “Tell me the essence of it.”

“Your ships are well and in working order, Orici,” Avernix answered. “There are twenty-six of them, stationed at various intervals around this planet and its moon. The troops aboard them remain in good spirits, and most have recovered from any previous injuries and are fit to battle once more should you call on them. There is much anticipation of the end of this galaxy’s conquest and a return home.”

“And their numbers?”

“A little over twenty thousand. Without sending supply ships, we can sustain them for another forty-eight days. With five ships leaving to resupply from nearby worlds, one hundred and two.”

“Good,” Adria nodded.

“As for your prisoners, they remain in poor mental state, waiting for you to do what you wish with them, and none are at risk of death,” Avernix continued. “The female, Vala Mal Doran, has been particularly...unsettled.”

Adria’s throat swallowed reflexively. Plotting her means of first contact, visiting Earth...all of it had allowed her to forget about her mother and the attempt on her life she had made. “I will deal with them,” she said. “You’re dismissed.” The Prior left, leaving her standing in the hallway, expecting that with the reminder of Vala all of her feelings of hatred and betrayal would come flooding back. 

They didn’t. Perhaps...perhaps there was something to be salvaged here after all. A show of forgiveness, wasn’t that what Origin was all about? Her mother had seemed severely distraught about her actions, even if distraught didn’t necessarily lead back to contrite. But Adria had put her under tremendous pressure, on this ship, and her meeting with Earth had gone so well…

Perhaps she could lend Adria some forgiveness. For Origin’s sake. 

Turning back to the rings, Adria stepped inside the circle and activated them mentally, sending her down several levels to the punishment block. Her enhanced hearing allowed her to hear Vala’s soft, broken breaths from the entranceway, though she remained a few cells down. The Orici approached slowly, standing quietly at the bars to Vala’s cell before announcing her presence. 

“Mother,” Adria said simply. 

Vala started, then resumed her curled up position but facing as far away from Adria as she could without jamming her face in a wall. “I’m no mother of yours.”

“I forgive you, Mother,” Adria said, kneeling down to get closer to her level. 

“I didn’t ask for that. And coming from you...it means less than nothing,” Vala replied, voice slightly muffled. “With all you’ve done...I’m not the one that needs forgiveness.”

She ignored her. “I realize now my mistake," Adria said, keeping her voice carefully modulated. "From birth I was thrust upon you, and I was the reason the Priors captured and held you in the first place. If we are to ever develop a stronger relationship, it is I who must make the first move towards reconciliation this time. We have resented each other for far too long." She paused, making sure she had Vala's full attention, and then plunged onward, something inside her showing her the way and providing the honeyed words spilling from her mouth. "I forgive you for trying to kill me, Mother. You were technically a prisoner, and I must admit I rather forced you to take more drastic actions. You did not know what I was doing to your friends, and you did not know what I would do to you or to your adopted homeworld. To remedy that, I will bring Daniel to you, so you can see that I have not tortured him or overly harmed him in any way. He will be near to you from now on, as I know you desire. And I also would like to take you down to Earth with me, for a visit."

“A visit,” Vala repeated, body uncurling, as if she could scarcely believe her ears. Her eyes met Adria’s, suspicious. Hopeful.

“Yes. There is much of it neither you nor I have yet seen, and I am told it holds many wonders. I must insist you accompany me, Mother.”

“Daniel first,” Vala said, still regarding Adria with a dubious gaze. 

She smiled. “Are we agreed?”

“I have a choice?”

“Of a sort.” Adria stood. “I will bring him to you, Mother. Please don’t try to kill me again.”

“That would be Mitchell’s definition of insanity,” Vala muttered as Adria moved away, “trying the same thing again and expecting different results.” 

Adria smiled. “Good. I’ll go get Daniel.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria takes Vala on a field trip.

“Daniel!” 

“Vala!” 

The relief was palpable in both of their voices as Adria slid the door to Daniel’s new cell shut behind him, neither of them paying her any mind. They reached for each other through the iron bars simultaneously, gripping each other’s forearms before pulling closer, drawing themselves into as near to a hug as they could get while still in separate cells. 

But he could look at her and her him and they could speak, and that appeared to be enough. 

Adria watched their reunion in silence for another minute before unlocking Vala’s door and gesturing her out. For once, Vala did what she was told, the almost dreamy quality not quite leaving her face as she exited, following Adria. She wore no shackles on her hands, only her feet to prevent any such ideas as sprinting for a ring platform to take her to the planet, but a quick touch to the Orici’s Celestis pendant reminded her she was invincible to whatever Vala might throw at her this time. The warm crystal hung comfortingly at the apex of her throat. 

Though she hoped Vala wouldn’t try anything anyways. So many times Adria had tried to reboot their relationship—so many times she had failed, rejected. Was it foolish of her to try again...to have, dare she say it, hope? Was it ridiculously  _ human _ of her, unbefitting of the Orici? Most of the old interferences had been removed now—SG-1, Ba’al, the meddling of the Priors—but had they ever been fully to blame? Were they to blame when, as a child, she had first realized that not only did Vala not want her, but she was disgusted by her? So many times Adria had reached out only to be spurned, scorned, and rejected, despite all her efforts. As an adolescent, when she had healed her mother’s birthing hurts to save her from the pain. The disappointment when she discovered the name she had asked from her mother—had defied the Priors to receive, wanting to be  _ more _ than Orici at a few hours old—was a cursed name, the name of a stepmother whom Vala has despised? Keeping that name, despite this knowledge, because her mother had given it to her. As an adult, seeking out her mother after she believed to have been abandoned by SG-1. Bringing her to her quarters aboard this ship, teaching her of Origin, allowing her the company of Tomin. 

And now this. 

What price was too high to bring in the Mother of the Orici back in the fold?

What price was too high to pay to know that her mother finally understood her mission, and was proud of her?

_ The price of a fool’s quest _ , a part of Adria’s mind fought back savagely. She would not allow herself to be taken in again. 

_ If she betrays me again, I  _ will _ kill her, _ Adria promised herself. The Orici—the part within her that was harsh and cold—raged slightly less within her. 

Giving no sign of her thoughts, Adria stepped into the ring platform beside Vala, reaching out  with her mind to activate it with a jolt of energy, no more than a spark lighting a flame that would bring them Earthward. A moment later they rematerialized on the surface of the planet, dry, green-brown grasses crackling under their feet. A small contingent of warriors in full gray-white armor surrounded them, a dozen in total, while their commander lowered his spear and dropped to one knee before her. 

“Rise,” Adria said. “Fan your men out. No one comes within thirty feet.”

“Yes, Orici.” He straightened up, directing his men to spread out some more and keep an eye on the sparse copses of trees in the distance. 

“Where are we?” Vala asked, shading her eyes from the bright sun with one hand. She gave a half-hearted kick at the defeated grasses under her feet. 

“I take it you haven’t seen much of Earth while part of SG-1, Mother,” Adria said. “That is fortunate, because I have not either. Come.” She held out a hand, palm upturned. Vala looked at it, eyes flicking to Adria’s face and back again, jaw visibly clenching. 

But she took the hand anyway.

“This place comes highly recommended based on our scholars’ research of Earth,” Adria continued, leading them up to the edge. “They say it is ‘grand.’” She stopped them both, looking down at the vast chasm in the ground that opened up before them. Deep walls of reddish orange rock formed the sides of the giant canyon, while a faint blue-green river snaked its way through the bottom. Vala stared down into it, watching the faint breeze stir the plant life down below. 

Adria watched Vala. 

“You’re staring,” her mother said finally. “Didn’t you bring me down here so you could look at the view?”

“I am.” 

“That doesn’t sound evil at all,” Vala said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She turned to face Adria, but just as quickly all ire dropped from her face. “What is  _ that _ ?”

“What is what, Mother?” Adria asked, brow furrowing. 

“That, on your cheek.” Vala was looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and disgust that curled her toes. The Orici lifted a hand to her face, feeling over the smooth skin of her cheek. Her heart gave one loud thud in her chest as her fingers struck slime, a divot in her face filled with it. Her fingertips came away black. 

“It is nothing,” Adria said with a forced surety to her tone. She had known this would happen, had expected it, yet she felt such revulsion. She rubbed it with the back of her hand, trying to wipe it off, only to feel it bubbling just beneath the skin. The feeling mounting in her chest that she could only describe as panic increased. 

“It is proof that this is unnatural, that you—your mission, is unnatural.” 

“No, it is proof that the human body is inferior and unable to contain my true form,” Adria said, grabbing Vala’s upper arm. “Come on, we’re leaving.” She pulled her back towards the rings, Vala stumbling over the uneven ground. “Take her!” she ordered, pushing her mother forward towards the Ori warriors stationed around the spot the rings would come down. Adria slowed her breathing, affixing her with a calm stare. “I will join you in a moment.” One quick hand motion and her warriors had called the rings, sending himself and half of the contingency shooting back up to the ship. 

Adria lifted her fingers to her cheek again, the tar-colored substance coming away slick on her fingers. Ignoring the warriors left surrounding her, she began calling upon as much of her strength as she could, preparing for the transition. She would have preferred to do this without an audience, but there was too much risk in allowing herself to be vulnerable on Earth, unlike on the planet where she had originally formed this body. She planted her feet and closed her eyes, gathering the fiery Ori energy within her. All at once, she let it spark within her, and then catch hold, feeling agony the likes of which she had never felt as unnatural crimson flames licked her human body from head to toe. 

This is what it must feel like to be burned alive, Adria thought. This is what Vala must have felt on Ver Ager. 

The cries of alarm from her warriors dwindled as her celestial body became clear as her skin melted away like hot wax and her bones turned to ash amid the flames. Immediately, they knelt, faces directed at the ground. 

The universe exploded outward around Adria, all of the Ori knowledge and power rushing back into her brain. It was exhilarating, drawing a small gasp from her lungs and a manic smile to her face as her eyes danced with flame. She had been blind before...but now...now, she could  _ see _ . Adria had forgotten what  _ true _ knowledge felt like.  _ True _ power. 

It took all of her formidable willpower to let it go, now that she had tasted it again. 

Soon, she promised herself. Soon—and seven billion minds’ worth more. 

Drawing upon the collective knowledge of the Ori flowing through her mind once again, she bent the vast sea of power to her will, centered around a single image. Planting both feet on the ground, she and spread  her hands, drawing the necessary elements from the soil. It began to bubble underneath her power, columns of dust rising to meet her. All living things within a ten foot radius disintegrated, providing the base chemicals for her new body. 

Her eyes shut in concentration as she began manipulating the raw materials into the right proteins and cells. It went quicker than last time, guided by previous experience and the giddiness that the sudden rush of power had injected into her psyche. When she opened them again, her body was healthy and full and unblemished, exactly as the previous one had been the day it was created. Amber eyes that stared blankly, dead, until she would enter and flush them with the flame of life. Adria stepped forward toward her creation, then took another step straight into her, their chests melding into one. 

A steel cage slammed down around her mind, cutting off everything she had so reveled in. Her teeth bit down hard on her tongue at the loss, the sensation—all the sensations. 

It was a fair trade. 

Almost.

The Orici cast her eyes around at her warriors, all of whom were still on their knees looking at the ground. “You shall speak to no one of what you saw here,” she ordered for good measure. She beckoned them all up, and they positioned themselves around her in tight battalion formation as the rings descended around them. A bright flash of light later, she was returned to the ship, Vala looking on in distaste between two armored guards. 

“You look better,” she commented. 

Adria smiled, a cold smile. “Thank you, Mother.” She extended a hand to their right. “Shall we?”

“Back to my cell. These little outings are always such pleasures,” Vala muttered, rubbing her neck. She nevertheless fell into step in front of Adria, heading back into the punishment block. 

“Don’t be dramatic,” Adria admonished. “Surely Daniel will be pleased to see you.”

Vala gave her one hopeful, breathless look that was all she needed to unlock his door with a wave of her hand. 

“You’re back!” Daniel exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. He cupped Vala’s face with his hands. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”

“We just went down to Earth. I’m all right,” Vala promised. 

“Then what’s this, hmm?” Daniel demanded, finally tearing his eyes away from Vala and holding up her arm for Adria to see. Her handprint, red against Vala’s pale flesh. 

For a moment, Adria considering burying a warrior’s spear in his head right then and there. Instead, she turned to Vala. “I apologize, Mother.” The Orici looked back at Daniel, who seemed unable to cover his surprise at the admission. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adria gains a new tool in her war.

“Why are you doing this, Adria?” Vala asked from where she stood at Adria’s side, eyes fixed on the blue-green lake in front of them—their fourth visit to Earth together. “I think I’ve proven I’ll never come to your side.” 

“Simple, Mother. I wish to connect with you,” she replied, tone light as if she hadn’t heard the second part of the statement. “Also, if I am being honest...sometimes I need a break from the war.”

“The Orici, tiring of galactic domination?” Vala scoffed. 

“It is a very lonely existence. Either I take the company of those who hang on my every word as holy or those who spurn my very existence.”

“You’ve told me all of this before,” Vala said flatly. 

Adria let a small, sad smile grace her lips. “Does that make it any less true?”

“You won’t make me feel sorry for you,” Vala said, turning away from Adria and casting her eyes out across the lake once more. “That darkness that makes us hate your very existence—it’s part of you. It’s not something forced on you by circumstance, it’s just who you are. Even if I had found a way for us to escape that Ori ship when you were first born, raised you away from the Priors and the influence of Origin, you still would have hurt me in the end. It’s just  _ who you are _ .” But she didn’t sound certain. 

Adria took heart in that. 

* * *

_ Boom. _

_ Boom. _

_ Boom.  _

Her eyelids cracked open, squinting at the column of flame blazing before her vision. Everywhere else around her, darkness.

“ORICI.” The voice emanated unmistakably from the flames, harsh and stern and full of anger. A man’s outline became visible in the column, the hottest flames burning a bright blue where his eyes should be. “ORICI.”

“I am the Orici,” Adria said. 

“So you  _ do _ still respond to that name,” the man said. “We had feared...otherwise.”

“Who are you?” Adria demanded. “What do you want?”

“You do not recognize us?” The flames burned golden, and then she was surrounded by hundreds, thousands of similar columns. “You do not recognize your benefactors, those who have given you such gifts and power?”

“The Ori are dead,” Adria said. 

“So is the Orici, it would seem,” a stern female voice said from her right. 

“Or would you like to explain the slowing of your plans, why you have failed thus far?”

Adria drew herself up to her full height, facing the man straight on. “I have not failed.”

“You lower yourself to wander among humans, you take their name, their attributes, you abandon your hard-worked plans to convert or eliminate them in favor of  _ nature walks  _ that serve no purpose—” 

“I have not failed,” Adria repeated through clenched teeth. “All of my plans are on schedule.”

“How would you know?” the woman interrupted again. “When was the last time you visited any warship but your own, checked on the progress of these so-called plans?”

“I have given the Earth my message,” Adria shouted, vehement. “I visit its people for hours on end each day, always setting down in new places. Giving gifts of healing and knowledge. Of truth. The people of Earth have already begun to be swayed—by the Prior’s estimates, at least 1 million have become believers.”

“Less than .02% of the planet,” the man said. 

“Well, it was easier before SG-1 decided to appear on their television screens, revealing the Stargate program and denouncing my campaign as a lie.”

“And you have allowed this?” the woman asked. “You have permitted them to spread such falsehoods about you, without any hint of retaliation?”

“We put all our faith in you, so that you could bring their faith to us,” the man continued. “Are you not grateful? We created you, gave you gifts that no human can even imagine. You will be the last to ascend, the last inheritor of our great knowledge and power. I feel we have chosen our successor poorly.” Adria could not see the sneer of disappointment on his face, but she could not stand it nevertheless. 

“Of course I am grateful,” Adria said, casting her eyes downward. “I will not fail, I promise. I will be worthy of all you have bestowed upon me.”

“Better,” the man allowed. “As always, we wish to help you with this task. To get...back on track.”

“Anything,” Adria said, eyes still cast towards the inky black floor. 

“One of your powers lies latent, unused to its full potential. It is unfortunate that you did not have time to discover it fully during your short period of ascension. The ability to read minds.”

“I have read minds,” Adria uttered. “Colonel Carter’s, for example, before I sent her back down to Earth.”

“We do not speak of the mere power to destroy,” the man said contemptuously. “Your act there, while minimally strategic, was one of pure destruction. What you could have read from her if you tried were the most obvious of thoughts, and memories, had you looked closer, blurred and gray.  Nor do we speak of the times you have used it to wrest a specific piece of information from your enemies’ heads. We speak of something much more nuanced.” 

“In a human body, this power is limited, but not so limited as you have assumed,” the woman continued. “You have already utilized it in an innate way to detect lies spoken in your presence. As you saw with Ba’al, that ability depends greatly on the mental fortifications of those you are trying to read. On one such as him, with the power of two separate minds brought to bear on the singular task of deceiving you, your abilities failed. But on one who is human, whose mental fortifications since the days of Merlin’s interference have long since faded away,  who has been put through trauma and torture for weeks, who has recently had this burden eased by the re-introduction of the thing in his life he holds most dear…”

“You want me to use it on Daniel.”

“Even your moments of the basest sentimentality can have a purpose,” the man said grudgingly. 

“I will not fail.”

“They will know if you ascend and retake human form too many times,” the woman warned. Adria did not have to ask to know who she was talking about. “They will decide that using the fruits of your previous omniscience in human form is a violation of their rules, and they will come for you. Be careful not to let this come to pass, Orici. The time for your  _ plans _ to work is not infinite.”

Adria nodded. 

“Do not disappoint us. Do not disappoint your heritage.”

Her eyes flew open once more, revealing the darkness of her bedchambers. The distant stars out her window provided the only illumination besides the soft red glow of the single brazier left burning through the night. 

A dream. 

A dream that was causing the rapid palpitations of her heart right now, and the rushing sensation within her lungs. The Ori were dead and gone. She knew that, as much as she knew anything. She would not have the full breadth of their power otherwise. But what then had she seen? Her own inner guilt made manifest? Or something else?

She must not fail. She knew that now, not that she had ever really forgotten it. 

_ Daniel _ . 

With a wave of her hand, the lights flared in her room as the other braziers flamed to life, filling it with its usual red-gold glow. She shifted the thick blankets off herself, swinging her feet down to meet the cool floor. In another instant she was dressed in the typical clothing of the followers of Origin, refined but as dressed-down as the Orici could ever be. Adria would need concentration for this, and proximity, and not to be interrupted. While there was little chance she would ever truly blend in on this ship, perhaps she could avoid some undue attention. She left her chambers devoid of her usual imperious manner, using the rings at the end of the hallway to travel down to the punishment block. The guards outside the row of cells stood straighter as she passed but made no sound, their eyes blurred with sleep. On any other night, relief from duty and dose of discipline would be in order, but their sleepiness served Adria well at the moment. She slipped down the cell block row, bare feet making almost no sound against the stone. 

Another three cells and she was outside theirs. They were curled up together against a wall, Vala’s head on his shoulder and his resting against hers. Their hands clutched at each other across their chests in their sleep, as if afraid the other would be taken away at any moment. 

Not tonight, Adria thought with a grim sort of determination. She dreaded the day she might have to do so. She and Vala had been doing well of late. 

Taking one last look at Daniel and Vala, Adria slipped quietly into the next cell over, seating herself cross-legged on the ground. Closing her eyes, she sent up a silent prayer to a few hundred dead false gods, thanking them for the gifts they had bestowed upon her and asking their blessing for what she was about to attempt. The powers within her flared slightly in response; this sort of roundabout self-belief often felt like it strengthened her connection to her abilities. Whether that was true or not, Adria didn’t know, but the Ori’s voice, dripping with scorn and disappointment, was still fresh in her mind. 

Taking a deep breath, the Orici closed her eyes and reached her mind out to the darkness. She concentrated her efforts on the visceral feeling of  _ wrongness _ she experienced when someone tried to deceive her, digging into that sensation for the other level the Ori had described. 

_ Daniel _ . 

She pictured him sleeping as she had just seen him, pictured his location a few feet to her left through the wall.

A feeling washed over her, setting her nerve endings on fire and sending her hand flying in a jittery line across her leg. Anxiety. Fear. And a desperate, desperate hint of contentment. 

Adria snapped back to herself, her arms smacking into her sides as she defensively curled her body away from the nervous tension she’d just felt. Her hand stilled, tremor-like movements subsiding as the sensation faded completely. Her throat flexed convulsively. 

The Orici mastered herself, and dove in again. And again. And again. 

She did not know how many hours she remained seated there, grasping at tendrils of a mind not her own. She did know that it was haunted by shapes and shadows. She knew that it blossomed when he came to wakefulness, and quieted the turmoil when it came to Vala. Adria latched on to that quiet, riding it, allowing it to pull her in, little by little. 

He was calm because Vala was safe. 

He was calm because they were together. 

He was calm because Sam was safe and out of this horrid place. 

He was calm because he needed to be, if he and Vala and Teal’c if they could get to him were going to survive this. 

He was calm because all that Adria didn’t know would be her downfall.

He was calm because even if they all failed, this was the end of the line for the Ori. 

He was calm because Adria would never know about Pegasus. 

_ Pegasus _ , Adria prodded. Atlantis. The Wraith. Hundreds of seeded planets. An entire galaxy in need, who had never seen nor heard of Origin. And an eight-symbol gate address. 

The Orici’s eyes snapped open.  _ The answer to all of her problems.  _

No longer would she need to grovel before Earth for their belief. No longer would she be limited in her ability to kill, hurt, and terrorize because every pitiful soul on this forsaken planet was irreplaceable fodder for her final fight against the Alterans. Trying to win over the people of Earth was aggravating and slow and thankless, and she had no stomach for it when war, true  _ war _ was so much easier. 

Pegasus, civilizations cowed by the relentless specter of the Wraith, would provide the belief she needed to supplement that of Earth once the dust had settled. Protection from the Wraith—something she could easily provide, with all of her might—would have them falling on bended knee before her. 

Adria smiled. SG-1 had thought they were fighting a war before? The real war had just begun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to clarify Adria’s mental abilities here for any of you that are wondering (and yes they confused the heck out of me too when I first had the idea for this plot point). 
> 
> At the beginning of this story (i.e. in the SG-1 timeline of Dominion/Ark of Truth), she could a) detect if someone was lying in her presence, except under unusual circumstances involving Goa’uld/Merlin implantation in the subject, and b) glean certain highly specific pieces of information when she knew exactly what she was looking for. This power was useful to answer purely yes/no questions (provided they had a yes/no answer as opposed to a more complicated maybe/sort of) and answer simple, unitary questions such as “how many nukes does Earth have?” or “where is Stargate Command based?” Now, she can--with much concentration--read minds, of a sort, when they are most vulnerable. In this development, she can delve into a mind and discover things that she didn’t know to ask about--such as the information about there being a whole other galaxy seeded with humans ripe for conversion. Of course, like all of Adria’s abilities, this is contingent on her being in the mindset to use them--not being duped by some pesky human emotions of her own. (hint, hint)
> 
> Just a disclaimer, it has been a LONG time since I watched SG-1 as a ten-year-old, so things may not be entirely accurate. I’ve done as much research as I can short of rewatching all of the Ori seasons, but unlike Adria’s new abilities I can’t find the answers to questions I didn’t know to ask :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vala is bored, with galactic consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Act III! We're in the endgame now... ;)

The Orici told no one of her plans. She had learned—after Tomin, after Vesuvius, after Vala—there was little room for trust in war. So she plotted alone, banishing the Prior stationed at the helm from his control chair, staring at the star charts herself, ascertaining from the gate address she had gleaned from Daniel’s mind where  _ exactly _ Atlantis—and the rest of the Pegasus galaxy—might be hiding. When she was done with that, there were a multitude of scans of Earth to comb through, covering everything from population centers to resource deposits to important political, cultural, or military sites gleaned from her conversations with Daniel. There was so much to do, now that she had a war to plan and a galaxy to scout. There was also not enough to do, given the sheer amount of waiting the planning stages of a war—and a holy mission—involved. 

It would take two weeks to commission an extra zero-point energy crystal to power a trip through the Stargate to an eight-symbol address. The Ori’s power could provide the energy requirements in an instant, of course, but she preferred to hoard it for a later time these days. 

Or she could travel three weeks to Pegasus herself, at the maximum speed of her ship. 

“By your command, it will be done,” the Doci had said when she contacted him about obtaining the crystal. It was on its way with a fleet of another five ships recently completed on Celestis and other Ori worlds, soon to pass through the Supergate. 

In the meantime… all her energies were focused on Earth, a more pressing concern and one that she still had to restrain herself from doing anything about. The discovery of Pegasus was a relief from a burden she had not been aware she carried, and brought with it a  _ freedom _ she had not known since ascension. Freedom to react, to destroy, to  _ be _ what she was truly meant to be. 

_ The beacon of light in the darkness, to the warriors of the Ori, and to all who follow the true Path to salvation. With the wisdom of the ages, she will lead us to glorious victory over any and all unbelievers.  _ Such as it was written in the Book of Origin, and such as it was stated at the time of her birth. The Orici was a leader of warriors, first and foremost, of vast armies and fleets of starships. Finally she would be allowed to partake in battle. And finally she would achieve glorious victory. She itched to begin, to truly let loose...to make Earth see just how much she had been holding back thus far. 

But firing at random was stupid and careless, no matter how much more desirable it seemed to Adria in her current state of impatience. She just wanted this to be over—to earn the mantle which had been bestowed upon her and fulfill her life purpose. And, once it was done, once Earth was finished, then she would really see where she stood with Vala. Not this balancing act they were performing now, with each of them dancing around the other on tiptoes, trying not to anger the other. 

And maybe, when her mother had literally nothing left to lose, they could  _ truly _ begin again. 

Shaking her head in an all-too-human gesture to clear it, Adria refocused on the scans in front of her. If anything, Vala had become a distraction these past few weeks. Fighting with, screaming at, and locking up her mother was second nature to Adria, but getting along—even if Vala was sullen and overcautious—was a far stranger experience. 

Likewise, Earth’s resource deposits were a puzzle to Adria, but one she was slowly unraveling. Specifically, the green highlights on the scan indicating the presence of the radioactive metal present in Earth’s most fearsome weapons. The highlights concentrated heavily in the regions known as the United States, Europe, Russia, and China, with a smattering in other seemingly random locations across the world. These areas, she surmised, where the locations at which the humans  were stockpiling the actual weapons, while the the unmined material was located elsewhere on the planet in only trace amounts. The weapons were of course only a moderate threat to her fleet, but as Earth’s finest—except perhaps for whatever weaponry the Alteran outpost on the southern pole of the planet might hold—they would be among her first targets, along with the mountain atop the Stargate. From previous battle reports from the Ori ships’ first forays into this galaxy, she knew they could not be shot or beamed past their shields, but would take out an entire ship in one shot if the shields were depleted. 

She didn’t plan to let them get that far. 

The Alteran outpost, small as it was on her scans, presented more of a problem, depending on its power supply and cache of drones. Even if they could do nothing else right, the Alterans always had made potent weapons. 

“Orici.”

Her head snapped up. “I said very specifically that I was not to be disturbed.”

The guard quavered. “I know, Orici. I apologize for the intrusion.”

When he didn’t continue, Adria hit him with a hard, expectant gaze. “Well, get on with it, seeing as I have already been interrupted.”

“Oh—yes.” He swallowed. “One of the prisoners is asking for you, Orici.”

Her brow furrowed. “Which?”

“The dark-haired female. Considering how much time you spend with her, I—I thought you’d want to know.”

Adria’s eyes flashed, chin jutting outward. “How I spend my time is of no concern to you, and neither is she. You are relieved from your post.” The man flinched and lowered his gaze. “Return to your quarters until you are reassigned.”

“Yes, Orici.” He hurried from her sight.

Adria waited until he was gone before letting her shoulders fall back into their normal resting position. What did Vala want with her? She had never been, for lack of a better word,  _ summoned _ by her mother before. Pressing her teeth together, Adria shut down the systems she had been using before sweeping from the bridge. 

When she arrived at Vala’s cell, her mother was seated against the back wall, legs splayed carelessly out in front of her. “Oh good, you’re here,” Vala intoned. Daniel heaved a long-suffering sigh two cells over. They had been separated since dawn, per Adria’s daily instruction. 

“You do not get to summon me, Mother,” Adria began her admonishment. “I do not come at your beck and—”

“I’m bored.”

“You’re...what?” Adria said, brow furrowing. 

“Bored. Stupified.” Vala threw up her arms. “Unengaged by the general living conditions and state of this cell.” 

“I am sorry that being a prisoner isn’t entertaining enough for you,” Adria replied, carefully keeping her own amusement at her mother’s antics out of her voice and expression. It was good to see a little of Vala’s trademark liveliness back in her again, the spark of mischief in her eyes. 

Such a difference the lack of torture had on a human body and mind. 

“Well, you  _ have _ been ignoring me,” Vala said. 

“I never got the impression you enjoyed our trips to Earth.”

“And I don’t get to spend  _ nearly _ enough hours with Daniel…”

Adria raised an eyebrow in warning.

“Of course I’m grateful for the time that we  _ do _ have, but there are twenty-four Earth-hours in an Earth-day, you know,” Vala said. “Even learning to read Ancient out of the Book of Origin was better than staring at these bars all day.”

“I can arrange for some reading material to be brought. I would be happy for you to continue your studies in Origin, Mother,” Adria smiled. 

“Eh, you know I was never one for books,” Vala sighed. “I prefer face-to-face, much easier to tell if that second-rate trader I was swindling was about to steal my ship out from under me. You’re teaching Origin to the people of Earth, Adria—you could just take me with you. Another one of our little outings.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mother. The places I go to spread the word of Origin on Earth are far too populated to be safe for you.” 

“Then just somewhere else on this ship then. Your quarters, maybe? It was cozy, in an ostentatious fire-goddess sort of way.”

Adria sighed. “I have work to do, Mother.” A flick of her fingers and the cell door creaked open, the chains binding Vala’s shackles to the floor snapping off. “If you can be quiet and let me work in peace, you may accompany me.”

“Company. That’s all I ask for,” Vala said with a strange quirk of her lips  bordering on a smile, scrambling to her feet. “So where are we going?”

Adria said nothing, just gestured Vala in front of her into the corridor and out of the punishment block toward the ring platform. Once they were both inside, she activated it, sending them shooting upwards to the front of be ship. 

“The bridge,” Vala said in recognition as they entered. “You know, I’ve never been on the bridge of an Ori ship before.”

“Don’t touch anything,” Adria commanded. 

“Of course, I’ll just sit right here,” Vala said, plopping down in the Prior’s control chair. For a moment Adria considering reprimanding her for her cavalier attitude towards the holy vessel, but it would do little good besides push her mother further away. Vala, who was not a Prior, could not control the chair anyways, much less access the ship’s systems. 

Ignoring her instead, Adria resumed her work from before, pulling up data files and schematics from her ships’ previous encounters with Earth’s fleet. Their tactics varied, but it was plain enough for Adria to see that disabling the ring platforms after the initial transport of her warriors to the planet was necessary before she allowed her ships to begin firing lest Earth manage to slip some of their own—or a bomb—aboard via the rings. With fifty ring platforms on the ground—placed since she had arrived in covert operations by her Priors—eighty ring platforms per vessel, she could feasibly transport to the surface five thousand four hundred of her troops in less than two minutes, the amount of time she estimated necessary for Earth to create a response. If any of the platforms had been discovered and dismantled, those soldiers would be sacrificed, but so far her reports did not indicate this would be the case. Having to disable the platforms after the initial drop-off  was due to an unfortunate technological oversight in Ori shield technology, but no more than a minor hindrance in her plans. The warriors aboard ships that would remain in orbit would be prioritized, while at least six warships would make the descent to Earth, beginning the full-scale invasion. The number of moving parts to her plan did not daunt the Orici in the slightest, for one of her biggest advantages in this war was her ability to command the other ships with her thoughts, mediated through her connection to the Priors. Only fifteen of her twenty-six ships were in orbit at the moment. Seven had been sent to resupply on nearby habitable worlds, a necessity to sustain her entire army, and another three were dealing with uprisings that had sprung up elsewhere in the galaxy. All would be recalled before the battle began, she just—

“Could you refrain yourself, Mother?” Adria asked, looking up with an unamused stare at where Vala sat, spinning around in circles in the control chair. It was a mystery how she’d even gotten it to rotate like that; Prior’s chairs did not  _ swivel _ . 

“Oh, am I distracting you?” Vala asked. “Can’t have that, not when you’re plotting the brainwashing of the only world I’ve ever called home.” 

“We will find a new home,” Adria promised, bending her head back over her work. “Now, come down from there, or you can go back to sitting in your cell.”

“Fine,” Vala huffed, slipping out of the seat. “You continue plotting galactic domination, I’ll just be over here.” 

“Thank you,” Adria replied, pausing to peruse another line of text before looking up once again in order to affixe her mother with an entirely too-wide smile. “How very considerate of y—what are you doing?”

“Oh, me?” Vala asked, control crystals in hand. One dropped to the floor, shattering on impact. “Nothing.”

The Orici raised her arm, preparing to recover the crystals and smite Vala to the ground for her treachery. Before she could do much more than open her palm, a giant blast tore through the ship, knocking them both flat. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The means of Vala's betrayal are revealed, and Adria reacts appropriately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I hate breaking from Adria's POV in the main body of this story, it's necessary for a few plot points to make sense. So, enjoy this foray into the SGC :)

_ A Few Weeks Earlier _ . 

Normally, she hated being wheeled anywhere, much less in the hallways of the SGC. Being confined to a wheelchair made her feel like an invalid, like she couldn’t do the same things the others could, which was a notion she’d been fighting since her first days in the Air Force. But being wheeled around by a two-star general was...a little different. Especially when that General was Jack O’Neill, clad in his dress blues for the occasion, even if all she was allowed to wear was her hospital gown. 

“Ready, Carter?” She felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder through the thin material of the gown, a fleeting squeeze and then gone again, professional. 

As they always were at work.

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded to the airmen next to the door of the conference room, who promptly opened it for them. A man in a suit was sitting alone at the large table inside, a dozen mission reports stacked in front of him. He closed the top one as they entered. “General O’Neill, Colonel Carter,” he greeted them. 

“This is Carl Strom of the IOA,” Jack informed her. 

“Where are the rest of you?” Sam asked. “I was under the impression this would be a full meeting.”

“I am their representative,” Strom answered. “They’re currently...off-world.”

“Skittered off to the alpha-site?” Jack said. “Huh.”

“Well, General, with this Orici’s MO in converting other worlds in the galaxy, can you blame them?” he replied.

_ Yes _ , Sam thought emphatically. “Mr. Strom, I asked for this meeting because I have a plan for defeating Adria and her army.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Although I heard you were...indisposed due to her tampering with your memories while in her control?”

“Yes, but—“

Strom nodded as if she’d said enough. “But before we begin, has it occurred to you that despite your exemplary previous performance as a member of SG-1 that an event like this brings your suitability for the task of planning Earth’s entire defense into question?”

“Adria couldn’t—“

“I’m sorry, but according to these reports, Adria ascended—is there anything we are certain she couldn’t do?”

“Mr. Strom,” Sam said. “What Adria did to me has no effect on my intellectual capabilities, or my loyalties, if that is what you are concerned about. My plan has been approved by General Landry and General O’Neill, neither of which have had any contact with Adria directly. Is that good enough for you to shut up for a second and listen to what I have to say?” Breathing more heavily than she should be, Sam glanced at Jack, who had taken an unobtrusive seat on the far end of the table. His features were not schooled enough that she could not detect the smile lurking beneath them. 

Strom seemed to struggle for a moment, then nodded much more forcibly than before. “I will hear your plan and relay it to the other members of the IOA for their consideration. With my personal recommendation attached, of course.”

“Thank you. Now, all of the intel we’ve gathered either comes from previous mission reports, the events aboard the  _ Odyssey _ as reported by Col. Mitchell, and what we’ve been able to observe since Adria’s armada arrived at Earth,” Sam began, nodding at the stack of papers in front of the IOA representative. “We know that the Ori were destroyed, but that Adria wields the full might of their power now. We also know that she wants to use that power to destroy the Ancients. Her power is generated by the belief in Origin of her followers. On previous worlds she has converted, she has used tactics ranging from speeches and demonstrations to plagues and the obliteration of entire towns to get the rest of the planet to fall into line.

“However, we have not seen any trace of these more drastic measures in her approach to Earth. We don’t know why, but she is either biding her time or is choosing to use non-lethal methods in this case for some reason. Either way, that slows her timeline down and gives us the chance to make the first move.”

“You’re talking about a first strike?” Strom asked, leaning forward. 

“We need a tactical advantage first, beyond surprise. We recently received a report that Vala was taken here on Earth, with Adria. A tourist spotted them at the Grand Canyon and snapped a picture.” Jack slid a full-page printout of the photograph to Strom. 

“Why would they go to the Grand Canyon?” Strom asked. 

“Our best guess—and what we’re betting on—is bonding.”

“Bonding?” Strom said in disbelief.

“Mother and daughter, specifically. We know that in the past Adria has always expressed an interest in getting closer with Vala, her birth mother—before she tried to kill us, at least,” Sam said, glancing at Jack. “Vala is our way in. If she can be our eyes and ears on the inside…”

“Wait just a minute,” Strom said. “Vala is an alien, and one who has betrayed Earth and this base several times now, according to SG-1’s mission reports. And you want us to hinge our entire attack plan on her intel?”

“That was two years ago, Mr. Strom,” Sam said civilly, though her voice was laced with ice. “If we can get in contact with Vala, we can trust her.”

“And just how do you plan to do that?”

“With this,” Sam replied, nodding to Jack. He drew a small case from inside his breast suit pocket and passed it to her. “This is some of the latest technology to come out of Area 51. It’s modeled after our subcutaneous transmitters, except it transmits and plays audio.”

“You want to perform  _ surgery _ on Adria’s prisoner without her noticing?”

“No,” Sam said with a small smile. “I want to shoot her with it. In the neck, preferably, so we can be sure we get maximum sound on Vala’s end at least. At the very least, we can hear what’s going on on the ship. If it seems safe, we can communicate with Vala. Get her to sabotage something. Maybe even lower the shields.”

“Colonel Carter…” Strom said, rubbing his hands together nervously. “This seems very far-fetched. The IOA—“

“The IOA will recognize that it’s the best plan we have,” Sam said. “Unless they would like to come back to Earth and work on one themselves with the rest of us?”

Strom’s face purpled. “I will take your plan to them.”

“With your recommendation?” Jack asked. “Wouldn’t want to make them think you don’t have faith in the smartest mind of the SGC.”

“With my recommendation,” Strom replied with a gnash of his teeth. 

“Thank you,” Sam smiled. Jack stood up, moving around the table to take hold of the handles of her wheelchair. “Always a pleasure working with the IOA.” He wheeled her out, and the doors slammed shut behind them.

* * *

 

_ “You’ll regret this, Adria,”  _ said the grating voice of Ganos Lal. _ “You are fallible, and this will be your fall.” _

Something warm and wet dripped onto her eyelid, but by the time she raised her hand to feel her forehead the wound was closed, gone. Wiping away the rivulet of blood, Adria opened her eyes. The world was bright and disjointed before her, and cognitive processing seemed to be slow as she tried to understand what she was seeing. 

Fire. Shattered glass. Vala.

_ Betrayal _ .

The content of the last few moments flew back to her in a heated rush of understanding, just in time for the ship to shudder beneath her, a veritable toss across the floor that sent her flying into the base of the control chair. The stone impacted the soft flesh of her stomach without mercy, knocking the breath out of her, but Adria thrust up a hand and clawed her way into the control chair. Another blast shook the ship; momentarily blotting out her concentration. 

No. She  _ must _ reach them. 

Before another shot could hit home, Adria cast her mind outward, seeking that of the Priors—pinpricks of holy light within the vast darkness of the universe. Adria’s mental shout billowed out towards them with all of her rage, confusion, and fear:  _ MOVE TO INTERCEPT. _ Immediately she felt their response in the depth of her gut, the lumbering movement of a ship from orbit like pulling against the tide. It came into view through the front window of the bridge just as another bolt of blue light fired at her flagship, breaking instead across the shields of the other Ori ship. Another shower of sparks exploded over her head, but otherwise, everything was silent.

Adria sprang down from the chair, shards of glass piercing her feet. Not glass—control crystals. Shields first. She had to get shields back online. Crossing over to that section of systems—and stepping over Vala’s unconscious body in the process—she knelt down to better assess the damage done to the crystal array. Four of the most essential were missing, and the entire panel was blackened from the attack. Completely fried.

Adria grit her teeth. Weapons, then. 

Speaking of weapons…

Reaching out once more with her mind, she found that of the other Priors, ordering all but the two ships currently shielding the flagship from further damage to begin their attack on Earth. The knowledge she had gained regarding Earth’s potential targets and strategies flowed through her to them, using the Orici as a conduit. Hit military targets first. Land at Cheyenne Mountain to take the gate. Send warriors through to begin the ground assault. 

She turned away from the shields control panel, seeking another useful system that was not as fried. Weapons looked good except for one cracked crystal, but she could bypass that… Adria performed the delicate operation with her mind, calling upon ship schematics and the knowledge of the Ori to guide her. After a few seconds, the console lit up white, and Adria smiled, vengeful and feral. 

Now, where was the  _ Odyssey _ ?

“Adria,” Vala croaked from where she lay on the stone floor. Her black hair was matted with blood from a nasty head wound on her left temple, and lacerations from the crystal shards painted her bare arms, but the bulk of her body appeared relatively unscathed. “Don’t do this.”

Adria’s eyes flicked to the entrance to the bridge, the ring platform not even visible behind the pile of rubble. Stone dust was thick in the air. “I  _ will _ do this, Vala.”

“Don’t,” Vala gasped, but Adria had already turned away, raising both arms as she accessed the now functional weapons systems. The  _ Odyssey _ , which had been trying to skirt the two shielded Ori ships defending her damaged flagship, was visible just past the first ship as it strained sublight to evade. She closed her fists, feeling the weapons systems powering up, locking into sync with her. The air seemed to fill with a faint hum, a crackle of energy. 

A loud gurgle from behind belayed her concentration once again. A novel sensation prickled up her spine, a visceral and nauseating portent of doom. Her hands dropped to her sides as she spun around, the hum in the air dying away. Her eyes met Vala’s, then slid down to her torso, where Vala’s hands grasped at the grotesque and unnatural appendage protruding from just below her ribcage. Slick with blood, Vala’s hands whitened to something almost skeletal as she managed to push the large piece of metal a bit further in. 

“Mother, no!” Adria was at her side in an instant, pulling Vala’s hands away and bathing her own in the blood that was gushing, thick and fast, from around the wound. “Why would you do this?” 

“I tried,” Vala’s words were more gurgle than voice, blood painting her lips as well. “...I tried...to stop you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...oops?


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holy War continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be kind to the science here. As my STEM major friends keep reminding me, I am *not* a STEM major...

Her hands pressed against the edges of the wound, then grasped the piece of shrapnel, intent on pulling it out. It was metal, part of the sheeting of the control panel that had been shaken loose and warped by the explosions of the initial attack. The attack that Vala had caused, but somehow that didn’t matter now. 

Adria gave it a tug, gritting her teeth against Vala’s gasp of pain. “Don’t,” Vala croaked, blood dribbling from her slack mouth. “Don’t try to save me.”

“Mother, I will not let you die,” Adria promised, knowing only as the words slipped unbidden from her lips that they were true. She grasped the piece of metal again, slippery with her mother’s blood. 

The ship tossed beneath them, knocking Adria to the ground and making Vala’s head bounce against the stone. Adria twisted her head to the window to see three more drones inbound, her ships trying—and failing—to intercept. Alteran technology—from the weapons platform on the ice continent at the south pole, and capable of much more complex targeting and maneuvering than Earth’s weapons or Asgard beams. A second drone impacted, and the ship shook again. Standing, she moved toward the front of the bridge, readying her weapons system to intercept...

“Do it,” Vala whispered, barely audible over the distant boom of secondary explosions elsewhere on the flagship. “If this is what you truly want, Adria, then do it. I...was wrong. I am your mother. I just wanted you to not cause so much pain.” Raised arms faltering, Adria looked back at her mother, then fell to her knees by her side again, grasping and tugging at the hunk of metal and hearing the  _ squelch _ as it slid out of her body. Vala’s slight frame trembled. “I could have been proud of you, Adria. You’ve achieved so much…” Her breath hitched with a small choking sound. “...destruction.”

“I will save you, Mother,” Adria said again, raising her palms a few inches above the unstaunched flow of blood spreading from her ruined torso. Her eyes closed and she focused on her power, directing its energy, and for the first time in her existence felt the power she held so dear pull away from her slightly. A whispered tendril of thought brushed past her mind, wrathful and infinite in its message, but she paid it no heed, focusing instead on harnessing the power that bucked beneath her. She wrestled it, channeled it...her hands began to glow, flesh knitting back together underneath them—organs and muscles and sinew and finally skin, smooth and whole, flowing outward like water to cover the formerly gaping hole. 

“Mother?” Vala’s eyes were closed, her mouth slack, and for a moment, Adria felt the bitter, biting fear that despite all her efforts—despite all she had sacrificed—she would never wake up. But then her eyes opened, and she coughed feebly, spitting out a mouthful of blood that blended in perfectly with the wet stickiness of the floor surrounding her. Vala was weak and bone white, but she would survive.

“Adria?” Vala croaked, but she had already turned away towards the view window again, barely retaining her footing as another drone impacted the ship. With a groan, the world tilted, Earth and the stars themselves spinning thirty, forty, fifty degrees on its axis. Though artificial gravity was holding steady, the drones had knocked them out of orbit, and they were, for lack of a better word— _ falling _ toward the Earth. 

Another ship entered her view, much too large for comfort, diving to intercept the last drone headed their way. Adria watched as the Alteran weapon glanced off her warship’s shields and exploded, only for her own flagship to shake with a thousand times more force as it, thrown far off course, impacted the warship’s shields as well. 

The other ship’s shields collapsed within seconds of the force of the flagship bearing down on it and the stone sides of the two ships smashed together, throwing Adria against the back wall. A long spiderweb of cracks criss-crossed the view window before the entire thing exploded outward, dust and rubble and precious air flying outward into space. Adria threw up an arm as if to shield herself and a bright barrier of power bloomed where the window was supposed to be, causing them both to fall back to the floor. 

Vala barely looked conscious after being tossed around so much, but Adria had little time to worry about that. The vacuum of space strained against her hastily erected web of power, sapping her energy and concentration with the mental effort of holding it there. The world outside was only getting brighter, and the air hotter—mated together, both ships had now entered a decaying orbit and were streaking toward the ground in a ball of fire. 

The Holy War was not going as planned. 

* * *

Gripping the back of the chair in front of her with her hands, Sam could hardly believe her eyes. Red warning lights flashed from all twenty of the monitors set up in the command center, each with a technician in front of them frantically scrabbling away at the keyboard and speaking rapid-fire into headsets that overlapped into one giant babble of professionalized panic. On-screen, columns of numbers flashed by too quick to see, overlayed on top of diagrams and projections of Earth, continents, and various military sites—the ones that were left, that is.

At her side was Mitchell, and a few steps away was Jack, as Head of Homeworld Security. Major Davis stood next to him, looking over the shoulders of two analysts holding black corded phones and speaking to them urgently as they relayed his words to the government officials on the other ends. SecState Clary Hilton was liaising with the other world governments, while SecDef Connelly coordinated the ground and low air troops in case of invasion. Nearby, Landry held the red phone to his ear that connected him to President Hayes, although he had been on hold for the last twenty minutes as the President was moved to a more secure location. To his left, Carl Strom shifted nervously from foot to foot, but Sam had to give him credit for being here in the first place, unlike the rest of the IOA dignitaries who had fled to the Alpha Site more than a week ago soon after Adria’s armada first appeared in orbit. 

“Status on the F-302s?” Mitchell asked. 

“Still en route,” one of the techs called. “Six minutes before they’re close enough to engage.”

“Knew we should have sent them out earlier,” Mitchell muttered.

Sam knocked his elbow gently with her own, knowing he wanted to be out there with them rather than stuck in the makeshift command center at the lowest level of the SGC. “Vala needed time to sabotage Adria’s ship. We couldn’t risk sending them out too early and alerting her to what they were planning.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “I just wish we could be...doing  _ something _ , you know?”

“The Ori warships have begun targeting Earth installations!” one of the techs reported. “Area 51 is under bombardment!”

“Two ships breaking off toward Antarctica!”

“The  _ Daedalus _ is moving to engage,” Davis reported.

“Three over mainland China!”

“The Pentagon!”

“Status of the drones?” demanded General O’Neill. 

“En route, sir—the Ori ships protecting Adria’s don’t seem maneuverable enough to intercept,” Walter replied from one of the analyst’s chairs. “...We have impact!”

“Damage?” Sam asked, leaning forward.

“All indications say...minimal,” Walter reported, face turning the color of ash. 

Sam nodded, her worst suspicions confirmed. “We knew that Adria’s ship may have modifications, that it would be hardest to kill.”

“Even without shields,” Mitchell said, unhappiness laced in his voice.

“Drone number two has impacted. Damage...still minimal.” 

“God damn it,” Mitchell uttered, and Sam thought she detected a “For cryin’ out loud!” under Jack’s breath. 

“What about the  _ Odyssey _ ?” Landry called. 

“They’re reporting minimal damage as well, sir!” a tech responded. “Colonel Davidson says that the Ori ships protecting the mothership appear to be prioritizing sublight over their weapons systems. Shields at 86%.” 

“Sir, we have reports that an Ori warship has landed at the base of Cheyenne Mountain,” Major Davis said, standing up straight. 

“That was expected. Continue monitoring, and Carrey and Lorevsky, make sure the SGC remains secure,” Landry ordered. 

“Third drone in three...two...one... _ Odyssey _ is reporting Adria’s ship has taken moderate damage. Hyperdrive is completely offline.”

“Why couldn’t it be weapons,” Mitchell said. “At this point, I’d be okay if Adria just...ran away.”

“She hasn’t fired yet,” Sam pointed out. “Something’s keeping her occupied.”

“Vala?” 

“No way to know. She insisted we turn off the device as soon as the plan was in place, in case Adria detected it.” 

“Fourth drone has impact! Severe damage to Adria’s ship,” Walter crowed. “Wait…”

“What is it?” Sam asked, crossing over to the screen he was looking at. Two red dots merged into one, but didn’t blink out, as they would have if the ships had exploded. She picked up the earpiece herself, jamming it into her ear. “ _ Odyssey _ , we’re getting some strange readings—what is the status of Adria’s ship?”

“The primary target has crashed into one of the other Ori ships,” said Col. Davidson, speaking slowly enough to be heard clearly over the sounds of sparks flying in the background. “Damage to both ships is severe enough that we can’t even get clear readings on their systems, but it looks like the hit may have knocked them out of orbit.”

A new pit of fear settled in Sam’s stomach. She tossed the earpiece back to Walter and pulled the nearest computer towards her, fingers flying over the keyboard. “He’s right; we have a problem,” Sam called. “The ships are in a rapidly decaying orbit. They’re on a collision course with Earth.”

“What’s the trajectory?” Strom demanded immediately. “We can begin evacuations.”

“It’s not going to matter,” Sam said. “Even if those ships were solid rock, they are too massive to impact the Earth, and with the extra explosion of the Ori drive cores...ash, smoke, clouds of it blotting out the sky for thousands of miles in every direction. If you thought we had a global warming problem before…”

“How bad are we talking?” Landry asked. 

“Do you remember the dinosaurs, sir?”

“So...bad,” Jack said. 

“Then nukes!” the IOA representative suggested. “Destroy it before it hits land!”

“All our nukes were put aboard the  _ Daedalus _ and  _ Odyssey _ before they launched, after it was determined they had the best strategic advantage to use them,” O’Neill replied. “ _ Daedalus _ is too far away, dealing with the ships over the Antarctic weapons platform.” 

“ _ Odyssey _ ?”

Davis was on the earpiece with Davidson in an instant. “Col. Davidson, we need those ships destroyed before impact. Do you have that capability?” After listening a moment, Davis looked up at them all and shook his head. 

“Impact in one minute, forty-two seconds.” 

“Then someone else’s nukes! Get me China, Russia…!” Strom spluttered. 

“There’s no time,” Mitchell said. His hand gripped Sam’s. “That thing’s coming down.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exceedingly short, I know, but important. To be fair, as long as I've ended this better than the travesty that was Game of Thrones and its many character assassinations, I'll be happy. One more past this to go!

Turbulence shook the ship, casting it along bumps so great that it seemed the artificial gravity was no longer fully functional. The view out the front window was a pure, blinding white-red, heat pouring over them in waves as the two mated ships careened towards Earth. 

“You have to do something,” Vala said. “Adria, you can stop this!”

She looked at her mother, half her concentration remaining dedicated towards keeping the energy barrier going. “We will be safe. My powers can protect us.”

“But what about everyone else?” Vala asked. 

“This is war.”

“And Teal’c?” Vala said, the desperation clear in her voice. “ _ Daniel _ ?”

“I can’t,” Adria answered, the words ash in her mouth. “I am the Orici. I must fulfill what has been foretold.”

“Adria, if you don’t stop this ship, millions—billions—of people are going to die!”

She lowered her head slightly. “A necessary sacrifice.”

Vala struggled to her feet, staggering toward her. “Bullshit.”

Rage smoldered in Adria’s eyes. “Excuse me?”

“No, excuse me. For thinking anything could ever be more important to you than power,” Vala spat.

“ _ Enemies of the Ori will show no mercy in their attempts to lead us astray from the true Path, likewise we must attack with all the Strength with which we have been given _ ,” Adria replied. The shaking of the ship was getting more severe. 

“Bullshit,” Vala said again. “The Ori created their own enemies in their quest for absolute power, and now they’re gone, and you’re still fighting their war for a bunch of dead power-hungry beings.”

“ _ Caelium videri esset. Et terra rus ad sidera tollere vultus. Ex uno disce omnes _ .”

“We don’t really have time for reciting the Book of Propaganda,” Vala said. “They’re dead, Adria, and you’re putting them above  _ millions _ of living.”

“I can hear them,” Adria admitted quietly. 

“That doesn’t mean you have to listen,” Vala told her. She placed a hand on Adria’s elbow, and Adria allowed the contact. “You have the power to stop these ships. You just have to choose to use it.” Their eyes met, and both held the gaze for a few precious seconds. 

Adria nodded, stepping back. “This will end it. All of it.”

“Good.”

Shutting her eyes, she closed her senses to the chaos surrounding her—the tumult of the ship, Vala’s desperate gaze, her own strife and indecision. In her mind’s eye,  she brought forth the seemingly endless Plains of Celestis, with their ceaseless ripple-waves lapping against distant shores. Still the place she found most peaceful. Still the place she would call home. Adria felt her frenetic heartbeat slow, a profound calm stealing over her senses once more. 

... _ Blessed are those that deliver us from evil...Hallowed are those who walk in unison… _

A warm glow began to suffuse throughout her chest and down to her fingertips, the beginnings of ascension. A whisper of thought that was not her own passed through her again, but Adria ignored it, seeking the light with every bone in her body. Full sentience and power exploded over her awareness as she transformed, radiant red light even brighter than the fireball outside overtaking the bridge. Vala shielded her eyes with a raised arm, knees buckling back to the floor. 

The universe was open to her, now. Adria had almost forgotten what being ascended felt like, viewing the universe and her streaking ships as if from afar, and the writhing, unbridled power that blanketed this realm, awaiting the time she would come to claim her birthright. And, on the edges, the shadows that lurked, waiting to tear it all away from her should she break their ancient laws. 

This time, however, Adria wasted no time with the marvel of it, reaching out and harnessing the power to herself, binding it to her will. She cast it out as her human self would have cast out arms, encasing the falling ships—only a few hundred meters above the ground now—in energy, beginning to drag them back away from the planet’s surface. Though directed at the ships, power swirled through her, setting her alight with it. She was merely the conduit. 

An Alteran brushed against her, a peculiar sensation for her incorporeal form, only for Adria to realize they had surrounded her now. Hundreds of them, the howling of a thousand winds, circling in a mighty storm of prowess and potential, but they did not stop her. Adria did not know why. 

The disabled ships were rising quickly now, though Adria was drained with the effort of channeling so much power. The warmth of the energy licked at her insides, seared her veins, and generally set fire to all of the phantom body parts she no longer owned but could still feel, in an abstract sort of way. The power was a heady feeling, jolting and numbing all at once. In another few seconds of swirling heat, Adria dragged the ships back out of the edges of the atmosphere into a stable orbit, extinguishing the flames surrounding them, though the outer stone still shone vaguely cherry red. The torrent stopped as soon as she released it. 

The Alterans swarmed, wresting control away from her in a feat of overwhelming numbers and Adria’s own faltering strength. She did not know how much of the Ori’s sequestered power she had used—in the long run, probably insignificant—but more importantly, she had given them an opening—and a reason—to stop her by violating their laws. That was the path she had chosen. 

Then she was tumbling through the darkness, a long tunnel with no substance other than its infinite length. There was no end to the black.  

**Author's Note:**

> Updated every three days. All forms of feedback are much appreciated!


End file.
